


Maps for the Getaway

by spandeedie



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Australia, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Louis wears a wetsuit, M/M, No Smut, Travel
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-12-24
Updated: 2016-09-25
Packaged: 2018-05-08 22:25:35
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 13
Words: 61,408
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5515529
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/spandeedie/pseuds/spandeedie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>AU. Louis has always wanted to join the Mile-High Club but he's totally not in the headspace for anything serious. Harry provides a ticket to membership, and the opportunity is too good to let pass. </p><p>Then they realise they're on the same 18-day tour of Australia's eastern coast together, and Louis is suddenly dealing with one hell of an awkward trip. </p><p>Featuring Nick Grimshaw as the Tour Leader, the whole crew as fellow tour members and an angry jellyfish as the catalyst for Harry and Louis' relationship.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. One: This Plane is All I've Got

**Author's Note:**

> Welcome to my first ever attempt at fan fiction. 
> 
> Huge thanks goes to my wonderful [Bear](http://bearmustard.tumblr.com), for bringing me into this fandom, and subsequently the world of fan fic. 
> 
> I also need to express my love and appreciation for [gettingaphdinlarry](http://gettingaphdinlarry.tumblr.com), who stepped up to the plate when I sent out a call on tumblr for betas and has been the most wonderful, supportive, creative friend and editor I could have asked for. 
> 
> On a musical note: While writing this fic, I was listening predominantly to Troye Sivan’s ‘Blue Neighbourhood’, Adele’s ‘25’, The Fray’s entire discography and The 1975’s discography, with some Ellie Goulding, 1D and Andrew McMahon in the mix. 
> 
> The title of the fic comes from Andrew McMahon in the Wilderness’ song Maps for the Getaway, which inevitably has the effect of making me want to jump in the car and drive to the beach.
> 
> Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction, which is no way intended to represent the real lives of the people who inspired the characters in this story. 
> 
> Further Disclaimer: I’m an Aussie and this fic hasn’t been Brit-Picked, so my sincere apologies for any Aussie slang that wheedles its way into the characters’ vocabulary.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please allow me to apologise, from the future, for the quality of this chapter. There's so much about it that I would like to change/edit! I promise the writing gets better as it goes on :)

“Ladies and Gentlemen, now that the seatbelt sign has been turned off, it is safe to move around the cabin. We advise that if you remain in your seat you keep your seatbelt on for safety...”

 

Louis unbuckles the metal belt with a satisfying  _ clink _ . He places each length of the belt carefully on either side of him, grateful for the vacant seat to his left as it allows him to bring his feet up to sit cross-legged. He tucks his thin airline blanket around his lap and leans his head back into the headrest. Beside him, Zayn gives a tiny snore. 

 

“We will be commencing our drinks service in approximately fifteen minutes. Thanks again for flying Qantas.”

 

As the flight attendant stores the microphone back in its cupboard, there is a rustle of movement amongst the passengers. A few people stand and make their way to the toilets, located just a couple of rows in front of Louis; some looking urgent with need having been instructed to wait. 

 

Louis turns on the tiny screen installed in the headrest of the chair in front of him and starts familiarising himself with the entertainment options. Scrolling through the ‘Classics’ section of the movies he sees, with satisfaction, that  _ Grease _ is an option. From the row in front of him he hears an excited squeal. 

 

“Nialler! Look! They have  _ Love, Actually _ ! And  _ The Notebook _ !”

 

Louis’ scoff comes out louder than intended, and suddenly a curly head of dark brown hair pops up over the back of the seat in front of him. Bright green eyes glare a challenge straight at Louis, rendering him temporarily speechless.

 

“Exc-uuuuuuuse me, but did you just make a mocking sound in response to two of the greatest films in cinematic history?” the passenger growls in a low Cheshire accent. 

 

Louis takes a moment to assess the situation. There is definitely a hint of humour in the boy’s tone. Allowing a cheeky smirk to cross his face, Louis’ hand reaches up to his long, messy hair to flick his fringe out of his eyes. “I don’t believe I did, Curly. I, for one, certainly didn’t hear anyone mention two of the greatest films in cinematic history…”

 

The boy’s mouth drops open in faux horror, his eyes bulging in their sockets and the faintest hint of dimples appearing on his cheeks. “I’m speechless,” he stutters, shaking his head. “I don’t know how I’m going to survive the next 20 hours sitting in the vicinity of such a heretic! Who hurt you?”

 

Louis’ smirk widens into a grin. “Richard Curtis hurt me when he made that damn movie. Ruined airports for me. Ruined Joni Mitchell for me. Ruined Christmas for me. I could go on,” he replies. He raises an eyebrow meaningfully and crosses his arms tightly over his chest.

 

Suddenly, another head appears over the top of the seat next to the curly-haired, green-eyed chick flick fan. A wave of bleached hair sits high above his brow, two blue eyes glimmering impishly at Louis. When he speaks, Louis immediately notices the strong Irish lilt. 

 

“Well, well, well, Harry. Looks like we have a regular grinch in our midst. Before we know it he’ll be trying to tell us that  _ Titanic _ isn’t the most epic and romantic film of all time.”

 

Louis lets out a snort. “I’m sorry, but you can’t really love someone that much if you can’t share your door with them in the middle of the freezing cold ocean. And don’t try and tell me there wasn’t room for both of them because that door was big enough for at least three people!”

 

His remark is met this time with two dropped jaws, and the blonde one looks like he is about to release a tirade of playful abuse when they are interrupted by an immaculately made-up air hostess offering them drinks. 

 

“This isn’t the last you’ll hear of this, Peter Pan,” the one who Louis now knows to be Harry, mutters jokingly. He points an accusatory finger at Louis as he turns around and slides back into his seat. His disappearance gives Louis a moment to allow his brain to catch up with his eyes. Speaking of eyes, that boy was definitely easy on them, and Louis’ mind starts filling with things he’d like to do to with him, most of which would--if executed--induct him into the Mile High Club. 

 

He and Zayn had joked about that earlier today, actually. They’d made a bet on who could gain entry first. Louis flies often in his work as an architect, and regularly comes across fascinating individuals seated nearby on planes. He’d never acted out of loyalty to his long-term boyfriend, Sam, but Louis is determined to earn his Mile High Club membership one day.

 

And given that, as of two weeks ago, he no longer has Sam to remain loyal to… well, Louis figures now is as good a time as any to get his wings. Especially since this particular vacation--an 18-day trip to Australia to travel up the Eastern coast in a bus with a bunch of other tourists in their mid-to-late twenties--was supposed to be their first overseas trip together. Was  _ going _ to be the opportunity for  _ them _ to get it on at 30,000 feet. 

 

A sharp pang shoots up Louis’ chest, and works its way up to rest thickly in his throat, tiny pricks of saltwater appearing at the corners of his eyes. He takes a deep breath, shaking Zayn gently to wake him up as the hostess turns to ask what they’ll be having. 

 

“You ’lright, babe?” Zayn mumbles, turning to accept the drinks from the flight attendant, and placing them carefully on Louis’ tray table.

 

Louis manages a small smile. “Yeah, thanks for checking. Just gonna watch a bit of Sandy and Danny until I’m tired. You wanna join?” Zayn wrinkles his nose in hesitation, and Louis laughs. “It’s okay, you’ve watched  _ Grease  _ with me enough times over the course of our friendship to grant you at least one pardon.”

 

Relieved, Zayn huffs out a small laugh and wraps his arm around his smaller friend’s shoulders. “I appreciate the acknowledgement, mate. No grown man should have to find himself singing ‘Beauty School Drop Out’ as they shower. I’m going to see if they’ve got the new Brad Pitt action film on this thing…” He trails off, turning his attention to the little touchscreen in front of him. He keeps his left arm draped over Louis, thumb rubbing the nape of his neck gently. 

 

Smiling and settling back with his glass of wine, Louis places his headphones over his ears and sets up  _ Grease _ as quickly as possible, partly out of excitement to see his favourite film for the thousandth time and partly to distract himself from the niggling anxiety pooling in his stomach. 

 

>>>I|I<<<

  
  


No sooner has ‘We Go Together’ finished, Sandy and Danny soaring into the sky in  Greased Lightning _ , _ when the curly head in front pops up again. He peers over to see Louis’ screen, glancing back up at Louis with a surprised look on his face. Louis pulls his headphones from his head and waits expectantly for his neighbour to speak. 

 

“Are you telling me that you had the audacity to knock my taste in movies before deciding to intentionally watch  _ Grease _ ?” Harry whispers, the volume drawing Louis’ attention to the rest of the cabin, full now of sleeping passengers and faces staring slack-jawed at the screens in front of them. 

 

Louis sniffs in reply, cocking an eyebrow and tilting his head. “What of it?” he asks. 

 

The other boy laughs quietly. “I could have handled your disdain for my favourite movies if you were some wanky film buff, but now I know you’re just a dorky show-tunes and musicals kid I’m even more offended.”

 

Louis watches as Harry’s eyes travel from Louis’ face to the empty window seat. Zayn insisted on taking the aisle once they realised they had a row of three seats to themselves, claiming that he can’t stand having to climb over people to get to the bathroom or stretch his legs. It suits Louis fine, and he fully intends to use the space to stretch out and have a semi-decent sleep himself. 

 

Now, however, he can see the cogs turning in Harry’s head. Louis is about to verbalise his intention to sleep when the deep, growling voice interrupts. “I think I might have to come over there and educate you,” he says, still whispering.

 

Louis opens his mouth to protest but Harry is already tumbling over the seat, landing ungracefully half on Louis’ lap and half on the empty seat beside him. Lithe limbs fly as Harry rights himself, lifting the armrest between the two seats to create one wider seat. Harry settles down with his back against the wall of the plane, legs draped over Louis’ lap. Louis casts a quick glance to his right to find that Zayn has managed to fall asleep again, his head lolling from side to side, tiny snores falling out of his open mouth. 

 

Turning back to Harry, Louis watches, perturbed, as the virtual stranger makes himself comfortable, breaking every barrier of personal space one might expect from a fellow passenger. He begins to form words of objection but loses them all as Harry turns to face him, mouth breaking into a wide grin, dimples cratering his cheeks. 

 

“Now, together we’re going to watch  _ Pretty Woman _ and you’re going to laugh and cry and get in touch with all of the feelings you’re currently lacking thanks to that ice-cold heart of yours,” Harry announces quietly. 

 

“How do you know I haven’t already seen it?” Louis counters.

 

“Have you?”

 

“Well, no--” he begins, but he’s immediately interrupted.

 

“Then it’s settled. You’ll thank me later,” Harry says firmly, his smile turning to a look of concentration as he sets to work attaching an audio splitter to Louis’ armrest, plugging his own earbuds into the second jack. He stands up briefly, reaching over to his seat in front and retrieving his own airline blanket. He doesn’t return to his former position, instead leaning his back against Louis’ left arm, long legs stretching diagonally toward the window in front while his curls rest on Louis’ shoulder. 

 

Louis is taken aback by the forwardness of this gangly stranger, but is certainly not averse to the warm body pressed against his own. As the movie begins, he feels Harry’s breathing fall into rhythm with his own, a strangely intimate realisation considering he’s fairly sure the other boy doesn’t even know his name yet. Tentatively, he lets himself softly sniff Harry’s head and is surprised to take in the scent of vanilla and something more woody--sandalwood or cedar or a combination of both. Sam favoured the spicier notes of Ralph Lauren and although Louis hadn’t been particularly partial to the cologne, after four years of waking up to that scent, coming home to that scent, falling asleep to that scent, it had become as familiar as an oath. 

 

That was a big part of his relationship with Sam, Louis realises: familiarity. They met when Louis was 22 and Sam 27 on Louis’ first day at Cowell, Griffiths & Magee, one of the biggest architecture firms in London. Louis was brand new to the architecture industry but somehow chanced an interview for a Junior Architect position at the firm and had charmed the pants off Simon Cowell himself, leaving the older man no choice but to take him on. Sam had been at the company for three years and was assigned the role of Louis’ buddy--showing him the ropes and making sure he knew where the tearoom and toilets were, who needed to be sucked up to and when was an acceptable time to clock off for the day. 

 

Over the course of Louis’ initial three month probation, the two became close. When Sam’s housemate unexpectedly announced that he was moving to Ireland it made sense that Louis would take his place. After all, he needed a reason to get out of the mouldy hovel he’d rented when he found out he’d be working at CGM. 

 

From there, they fell into habits of convenience. It was convenient that when Sam needed to release some tension, Louis was there to offer a massage and snogging session. It was also convenient that when Louis was feeling homesick and lonely in the city, Sam could curl up in his bed, holding him until he fell asleep. 

 

Slowly, it progressed into more regular sleepovers, and eventually the two conceded that they may as well make it exclusive. It wasn’t as though there was anyone else for Louis to go to for those kinds of needs. He’d done the one night stand thing to death over his four years at University of Kent, and with his strenuous work hours and frequent flights to the firm’s other branches to assist whoever needed a lackey for the week, he didn’t have time to go out and meet anyone in a more grown-up setting. 

 

Louis was always quite proud of the way they kept their relationship professional at work, and for a good two years, no one at the firm suspected anything was going on behind the scenes. Eventually, though, they’d been caught kissing in a moment of weakness in the photocopier room and they’d had to let their superiors know before rumours spread. 

 

After three years together, Sam started to talk about marriage and kids and houses in the countryside. Sam loved being an architect, and was dedicated to his job, but was never particularly ambitious. Louis knew he wanted those things  _ eventually _ , but couldn’t conjure up the enthusiasm to discuss it seriously with Sam, try as he might. 

 

So he began avoiding discussions that looked as though they were heading in that direction. He watched helplessly as, over the course of the year, Sam grew more and more distant, closed off after being rejected by Louis too many times. This trip, this spontaneous getaway Down Under, was originally intended to inject some life back into their relationship. 

 

In the four years they were together, both men had been expected to work long hours, rarely utilising their annual leave except to visit family or drive somewhere reasonably local for quick relaxation getaways. They’d fallen into a rut at home, their conversations revolving around domestic matters such as cooking and cleaning, and their sex life growing virtually non-existent. Then one day Louis had come home late, having been to the travel agent immediately after work, and surprised Sam with the tickets. 

 

“Honey, I’m home!” he cried, embracing the corniness of announcing his own presence. He walked through the front door of their fifth floor flat, “And I have a surprise for you!”

 

Rounding the corner into the kitchen, Louis found Sam sitting at the dinner table, a plate of heated up pasta in front of him and a sombre look on his face.  

 

He’d perked up significantly at the sight of the tickets, although initially a little shocked at the idea of just getting up and going to Australia in a month’s time. For a couple of days, things were looking up. Two weeks later, though, they were watching the football in their pyjamas when Sam tentatively dropped some news of his own. 

 

“Lou, I’ve been offered a job,” he started. 

 

“What? Since when have you been applying for jobs?” Louis replied, a bit roughly. 

 

“For a while now, actually. I had an email from a firm in Nottingham a few weeks back saying they were interested in my work and it got me thinking that I might need a bit of a change, you know? Change of pace, change of scenery…” Sam paused, looking nervously at Louis whose mouth had dropped open in disbelief. 

 

“Change of boyfriend, then, too? Is that what you’re getting at?” Louis retorted, his voice cracking a little as the words fell out. 

 

“Well it’s not as though you’re giving me much reason to stay these days,” Sam rebutted. “Don’t even pretend you haven’t been ignoring any semblance of serious discussion about the future of this relationship, Lou. All I have to do is say the word ‘marriage’ and you’ve found an excuse to run to the supermarket or go to Zayn’s. How can I plan a future for us if you don’t seem to want to be part of it?”

 

Louis went quiet, unable to whole-heartedly refute the accusations his boyfriend was making, knowing full well that what he was hearing was the truth. 

 

“And there’s something else…” 

 

Louis glanced up and saw Sam’s eyes change momentarily from their look of defeat to a look of…was that guilt? His heart started beating faster. 

 

“I guess it’s more like  _ someone _ else,” Sam said slowly, keeping eye contact with Louis for a moment before dropping his stare to his lap, his hands fidgeting. 

 

The world stopped. With virtually no control over his movements, Louis found himself jumping off the couch, backing away for three steps. “How long?” he demanded, not sure if he wanted to know the answer. 

 

“A few months…”

 

Louis hadn’t said another word, stalking into their room and grabbing an overnight bag from their walk-in-robe. Stuffing it with enough essentials for a few days, he grabbed it and his work bag and headed for the front hallway. Sam was waiting, his eyes pooling with tears as he stood at the front door. 

 

“Louis, please, can we talk about this? I didn’t know what else to do. You’ve been shutting me out for the best part of a year and I wanted this to work, wanted to settle down with you. You wouldn’t let me in, Lou, what was I meant to do?” he pleaded, desperately. 

 

Rage had shot up Louis’ chest, bubbling over as he grabbed his wallet and keys from the hall table. “Uh, I don’t know? Not run off to sleep with the first willing arsehole you can find?” he snarled. 

 

“It’s not like that…” Sam reached out to grab Louis’ arm, but Louis jumped backwards, putting a safe distance between them.

 

“What do you  _ mean _ it’s not like that? You mean it’s not casual? It wasn’t just a random hook-up that turned into regular sex to make up for the fact that you weren’t getting as much at home from your ball and chain?” Louis made for the door, his arm reaching around Sam to grab the doorknob. 

 

His boyfriend (ex-boyfriend?) grabbed his wrist before he could turn it. “It wasn’t random, Lou. I ran into Aidan again…”

 

Louis pulled his hand out of Sam’s grip as though his touch was lava. “Aidan? First love from high school Aidan?”

 

“Yeah.”

 

“Aidan-firmly-trapped-in-the-closet Aidan?”

 

“He  _ was _ , Lou, but I guess a lot has changed over the past 5 years.”

 

“You’re right,” Louis spat out. “A lot  _ has _ changed. Well I hope the two of you are incredibly happy together; I wish you every success. May you be happily married and have fifteen fucking babies and a farmhouse in the country. Best fucking wishes for that.” 

 

He threw the door open and shoved past Sam, thundering down the flights of stairs as he messaged Zayn to warn of his impending arrival and instruct his best friend to have a bottle of the cheapest vodka and a tub of ice cream at the ready. 

  
  


>>>I|I<<<

  
  


Louis looks up to see Julia Roberts lounging in a ginormous bathtub, headphones on and singing loud and off-key to Prince. He’d been replaying that moment, that final fight, in his head regularly over the past two weeks and received it with a mix of regret, confusion and, strangely, relief. 

 

Maybe he should have tried harder to hold on to Sam, to make it work. But a small part of him remembered the claustrophobic feeling he’d endured for the final year of the relationship. There was so much more he could have been experiencing, but he had been unwilling to interrupt the reliable equilibrium he’d established with Sam to risk finding something that might make him feel more alive. Still, it hurt. He’d invested so much time and love into that relationship and found himself missing the company of his ex-boyfriend, however stale it had become by the end. 

 

Against his shoulder, Harry’s head shifts to gaze up at Louis’ face and Louis realises he’d completely forgotten about the warm, nice-smelling ball of affection curled up to him in a most overfamiliar fashion. 

 

“You okay? Enjoying it so far, Ice Man?” Harry asks him, taking one earbud out to hear Louis’ reply. 

 

“Ugh, it’s bearable. Considering we’re in a capsule cruising at 36,000 feet and I have virtually no other entertainment options,” Louis replies. 

 

Harry feigns a look of hurt and turns his head away, replacing his earbud before responding. “Well I guess I’ll have to find a way to make it more entertaining for you then,” he says slowly. 

 

Louis balks at Harry’s suggestion. He’s known this kid for all of five minutes and he’s dropping implications about partaking in very adult behaviour. Not that Louis would be averse to using this guy as a ticket into the Mile High Club. After all, he does smell incredibly sexy and his eyes are a natural shade of green Louis has never seen on anyone before. Then there are the dimples--and Louis is quite partial to dimples. A split second later, Louis watches, horrified, as his hand makes its way involuntarily towards Harry’s face. His pointer finger traces a path in the boy’s cheek where said dimples had once appeared. 

 

Harry looks up at him again, a quizzical expression on his face, but when, moments later, he turns back to the screen, Louis sees his hand creep under the blankets, letting it come to rest on Louis’ thigh. He takes a sharp breath as the warmth of the other man’s big palm spreads from his thigh to his stomach and the regions in between, his heart taking a cue from his other organs and speeding up to a steady thud. 

 

He fixes his gaze on the screen ahead, desperately trying to ignore the way Harry’s thumb is now stroking his outer thigh softly. It feels so strange to have someone so very not Sam touching him in this particular way, but also kind of great. Louis focuses intently as Hector Elizondo teaches Julia Roberts about the different types of cutlery, but the edges of his vision start to blur when, a moment later, Harry’s hand shifts again, moving further in to hold onto Louis’ inner thigh. Louis lets out an involuntary gasp as his head falls back just slightly. Harry’s head is still resting on his shoulder, his eyes on the film, pretending as though he hasn’t got his hand just centimetres away from Louis’ nether regions. 

 

Louis finds himself draping his left arm around Harry’s shoulders, his hand resting on the top of the other boy’s chest. He lets his thumb graze lightly over Harry’s nipple, feeling him wriggle slightly in response. For the next five minutes, neither of them move. Louis’ brain is a mess of impure thoughts, fizzing anxiety and confused excitement. He wants this, so much, but it’s been Sam for over four years--enough time to make him wonder if he’s still any good at casual hookups. What if he’d grown so used to Sam that his standards slipped? Their sex life was always vanilla at best, but Louis had put that down to the comfortable familiarity that seemed to be the aesthetic of their entire relationship. 

 

There is nothing comfortable or familiar about the game he’s playing with Harry right now, though.

 

It’s new and strange and Louis’ whole body is heating up, his heart thumping wildly in anticipation. He can hardly breathe when, just a moment later, he feels Harry’s hand deftly untie the laces at the top of his joggers, before sliding his hand down over Louis’ boxer shorts. Louis turns his face into the head of slightly dirty curls resting on his shoulder, breathing a hot gasp onto Harry’s scalp and shutting his eyes tightly. He lets his draped arm slide down Harry’s side until his hand is sitting at the junction between the other man’s hip and thigh, pulling the blanket up to Harry’s chest and sliding his own hand underneath it. 

 

Then, oh God, the piano scene comes on and Louis almost blanks out as Richard Gere holds Julia Roberts over the piano, tracing her body with his hands. All Louis can think about is getting this strange boy on his back on a baby grand and going to town on him. Wordlessly, Louis reaches over to grab Harry’s hand from underneath his pants, glancing up to see the green ‘Vacant’ sign lit for each of the four toilets up ahead. The majority of passengers in their cabin are fast asleep now, the air hostesses making themselves scarce. It’s the perfect opportunity, really. Harry sits up straighter and looks at him, and Louis can see the fear of rejection hiding behind the green irises. He shakes his head slightly and nods towards the bathrooms. Harry’s lips curve into a small smile. The two boys stand, stepping over Zayn as carefully as possible, and make their way down the aisle. 

  
  


>>>I|I<<<

 

A trickle of sweat runs down Harry's neck as he grabs at the other man's shoulders for support. As his fingers dig in, he hears a muffled moan escape from the face pressed into the nook between his neck and shoulder. Small, sharp teeth bite down on his skin, drawing a hiss from Harry's mouth.  Harry gasps for air, his vision blurring with exertion as he feels himself come crashing back down. The bitter taste on his tongue and the ache in his knees are proof that he well and truly earned the blissful smile creeping across his face. Harry leans back on the toilet door, slowly catching his breath as he comes to terms with what he’s just achieved.  _ Pat on the back, Styles, you’ve made it into the club _ .  _ Niall and Ed are going to be so jealous. _

 

He’d spotted the other boy--whose name he still doesn’t know--as they were boarding the plane, his heart giving a thump of excitement when he realised he was seated directly in front of him. The long, messy, golden brown hair which covered his petite face in a thick, straight fringe. The couple of days worth of stubble scattered attractively over his chin, cheeks and upper lip. The slight glow of olive skin even though they hadn’t even got to bloody Australia yet, arms covered in a smattering of random tattoos. And then there were those eyes. Bright blue irises framed by long lashes. Harry could not believe how beautiful this man was. 

 

He welcomed the opportunity to turn and engage with the other passenger when he heard his scoff, their interaction doing nothing to lessen the attraction Harry was feeling. He had a thing for sass and banter. When he realised the guy had been watching  _ Grease _ of his own volition, Harry’s confidence grew. There was just the matter of the unfairly hot darker-skinned boy sitting to the right.  _ Was he the boyfriend? Or just a friend? _ There could be no competing with someone whose cheekbones were so incredibly chiselled. Then, blessedly, he’d heard the potential obstacle refer to their friendship, and Harry breathed a sigh of relief. It seemed absurdly lucky that the object of his desires had, just seconds later, announced his aversion to women. They were making it too easy for him, Harry had decided, but he didn’t really mind.

 

And now, he is enclosed in a tiny, dirty little space, unflattering fluorescent light casting his skin in the most unbecoming of tones, admiring the pert backside of the boy crammed in here with him as he splashes his face with water at the sink, rubbing his cheeks until they flush pink. 

 

“So that was, nice…” Harry begins, deliberately awkwardly. He lets his eyes track over to meet the ice-blue ones in the mirror and gives a hesitant smile. 

 

“It wasn’t awful, Curly, no. Though I can’t say I’ll be making a habit of fucking random strangers in unhygienic airplane bathrooms.” 

 

Harry lets out a giggle. “I don’t see why you wouldn’t want to. It’s such a sensual, romantic environment.”

 

The other boy pulls some paper towel from the dispenser, wiping his hands before disposing of the paper and adjusting himself in his pants. “Well, it’s been fun. Best of luck for your time in Australia. Enjoy the rest of the flight!”

 

And with that, the stupidly attractive boy, who had only moments ago had his lips pressed to Harry’s, unlocks the door and strides out, back down the aisle towards his seat. As much as Harry knows he shouldn’t have expected more from this encounter, he feels a brief wave of disappointment wash over him. He knows it’s completely unreasonable, but when he’d been curled up against the stranger’s side as they watched  _ Pretty Woman _ , he’d felt strangely comfortable and confident. Had allowed himself to briefly entertain the thought that sometimes people met like this and it turned into something awesome. And God, did he mention how stupidly attractive the guy is?

 

Sighing, Harry makes his way back to his own seat, noticing that the other boy is now sleeping--or pretending to sleep--in his seat. Harry quietly reaches over to retrieve his blanket and earphones and settles back in next to Niall and Ed, both of whom are also snoring quietly. 

 

Seventeen hours later, the plane touches down and the passengers begin the slow process of disembarking into Sydney Airport. Harry feels groggy and disgusting, having kept himself awake for most of the remaining flight time to ensure he’d be tired enough to sleep again when they reach the airport hotel. It’s 2am Sydney time and he wants to avoid jet lag as much as possible. They leave on their bus tour in six hours time, the bus coming to collect them from the hotel foyer, and he doesn’t want to let his confused body clock get the best of his first few days in Australia. 

 

He’s been waiting for this trip since he was 12 years old. He, Niall and Ed had made a pact that summer, spurred on by making a surprisingly decent amount of money from busking on local streets. They had decided that they would save their busking money--or at least, most of it--and would keep going each summer until they’d made enough to fund a trip to Australia. Niall was desperate to go and Harry and Ed had enough interest in the beaches and sunshine to give their assent. Now, 12 years later, they’ve finally made it. To be honest, they’d had the money a while ago, but between finishing university and landing full time jobs they’ve only just found a mutually agreeable time to go.   

 

They’ll be spending the next 18 days being driven from Sydney to Port Douglas, stopping along the way at beaches, theme parks and reefs that all look incredible on Google Images. The tour is run by a group that specialises in catering for young professionals in their mid-to-late twenties- finding a balance between the party atmosphere of Contiki and the dull relaxation of the companies targeting the Grey Nomads. It’s a smallish group, only a dozen others, and Harry is so looking forward to making some new friends and sharing memorable moments with his oldest ones. 

 

The passengers a few rows in front of them start to slowly shift forward, so Harry, Niall and Ed stand up, shuffling out to stand in the aisle. As Harry reaches up into the overhead compartment to grab their backpacks, his hand brushes against someone else’s, and he realises with a start that his toilet conquest is grabbing the bag next to his. They make brief eye contact, and the other boy clears his throat quietly before pulling down his bag and turning deliberately to talk to his super attractive friend. Harry shoulders his backpack and turns towards the front of the plane, inching forward until he, Niall and Ed are strolling down the gateway into the main part of the airport, the other two completely unaware of the brief moment of tension Harry had shared with the boy, whose name he’ll never know. 

  
  


>>>I|I<<<

  
  


Louis wakes the next morning at 7am, just four hours after he and Zayn collapsed onto their beds in the airport hotel. They have to be downstairs in the foyer by 8am, where the tour bus will meet them. His head aches and his eyes feel dry and sore. He knows he should have worn his glasses on the plane, forgoing contacts until he was safely touched down in Sydney, but he’d simply forgotten to swap them over in his excitement to get on the flight. He rolls over and shakes his best friend awake. Zayn is not a morning person--they’re alike in that regard--and protests grumpily to Louis’ touch. 

 

Eventually, they’re showered and dressed for the first leg of their journey. They’ll be doing a morning tour of Sydney visiting the obligatory sights of the Harbour Bridge and the Opera House, before driving for four hours to Crescent Head, a surf spot on the coast further north. Louis is particularly excited about hitting the waves. He’s an inexperienced surfer, having only had a few lessons on a family trip to California years ago, but found it easy to pick up with his good sense of balance, nimble limbs and low centre of gravity. Being short has its advantages. 

 

They drop their luggage off in the lobby and make their way into the hotel dining room, quickly filling a plate with fresh fruit and pastries from the breakfast buffet. At quarter to eight, feeling much more awake thanks to a strong cup of tea, they make their way back to reception. The bus, a white 20-seat mini, is waiting outside. Through the tinted windows, Louis can see that it has already collected a number of other people. The door to the front passenger seat opens, and a tall, slender man with thick dark hair carefully styled into a quiff hops out. He’s wearing an open flannelette shirt with a white vest underneath, cut-off denim shorts and thongs and he makes his way over to open the underside of the bus. Louis and Zayn grab their luggage and haul it outside. 

 

The man looks up and offers them a friendly grin, extending his hand. “Boys! Good morning! I’m Nick, I’ll be your tour guide for the next 18 days.”

 

Louis and Zayn shake Nick’s hand in turn, introducing themselves. 

 

“Ah, a Yorkshire lad and a Bradford bad boy. What fun. Lovely to meet you both,” Nick crows in his Mancunian accent. 

 

He glances over Louis’ shoulder, eyebrows raising in greeting at an approaching party. Louis turns to face his fellow travellers, and-- _ Oh God, no. Nope. Not possible. _ Three boys are approaching the bus, one with shaggy red hair and beard, another with a shock of bleach-blonde hair and in between them, a gangly figure with long, brown curls and emerald green eyes. Louis’ breath hitches as he takes in the familiar body ambling towards him. He’s dressed impractically--tight black jeans and a loose white t-shirt--considering the sun is beating down already, but God does he look good.

 

Zayn seems to notice Louis freeze up next to him, and he turns to whisper in his ear. 

 

“Sweet Moses, the next 18 days are going to be very interesting if this is what our company looks like.” 

 

Louis lets out a strangled laugh as his eyes meet Harry’s.  _ Smooth, Tomlinson _ , he thinks to himself as he turns back to pick up his bag and throw it into the luggage compartment. He’s about to make a quick run to get on the bus when he feels a hand on his shoulder. He straightens up and spins on his heel to find himself face to face with Harry. 

 

“Hi,” the boy says, a hint of hesitation in his voice. “I don’t think we’ve officially met. I’m Harry Styles.”

 

Louis takes a deep breath, wiping his palms on the sides of his shorts. He extends his right hand and briefly grips Harry’s. “Louis. Tomlinson. Good to meet you,” he replies, tersely. The last thing he needs is to give the kid the impression that he’s interested in continuing what they started the night before. He grabs a confused Zayn and pulls him away from Harry, onto the bus. 

 

“What was that all about, man?” Zayn questions, the moment they’re out of earshot. “Way to be awkward!”

 

Louis lets out an indignant huff. “You do talk some shit, Z. Now, let’s get us a good seat and make us some fun new friends.”

 

They make their way up the bus, swinging into a double seat in front of a row of four happily chatting girls, two on each side of the aisle, sounding far too awake and chirpy for 8am. Louis can see Harry and his friends out the window, talking to Nick as they stow their luggage. He’s probably imagining it but he thinks he sees a shadow of disappointment cast over Harry’s face. A pang of annoyance hits his chest. The last thing he needs is to be worrying about someone else’s feelings on this trip. He’s got enough on his plate as it is. He shrugs it off and joins in on Zayn’s conversation with the girls, resolving not to think about it any further. 

  
  



	2. Two: Choking on Salt Water

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hiiii! Thank you for waiting so patiently for the second chapter. I've been away on holiday, and my betas have been doing such an incredible, thorough job that it's taken a little longer than expected to get this out to you. 
> 
> A couple of other revisions. I've changed my position on long chapters and have decided to try from now on to post smaller chapters twice a week, instead of bigger ones once a week. Will try and keep on track, but please bear with me!
> 
> Before I let you get started I just want to shout out again to [gettingaphdinlarry](http://gettingaphdinlarry.tumblr.com) for her remarkable beta skills. Girl has an eagle eye and has been so patiently helping me get my dialogue and description sorted. Thank you, thank you!!!
> 
> Also to [deadlylou](http://deadlylou.tumblr.com) and [Bear](http://bearmustard.tumblr.com) for being wonderful and helpful and encouraging. You make this process much more fun :)
> 
> Finally, thanks to [silentlarryshipper](http://silentlarryshipper.tumblr.com) for motivating me and making me feel like someone is keen to read the next chapter, and [Sus](http://lululawrence.tumblr.com) for teaching me how to insert hyperlinks into chapter notes haha!
> 
> I hope you enjoy this one, and please do keep leaving me comments to let me know your thoughts etc. I love feedback!

The bus is steadily winding its way up the coast, and Harry is drumming his fingers on his thighs restlessly. He’s feeling playful--not an uncommon state for him, and he decides everyone needs a bit of pepping up. He’s already made some friends on the trip, found in an exuberant group of girls from England. Jesy, Jade, Leigh-Anne and Perrie are celebrating Jesy’s last girls’ trip as a single woman, the huge heart-shaped diamond on her ring finger clearly denoting her engaged status. They’re ridiculously friendly and have been enthusiastic contributors to the bus conversations, which Harry appreciates. The conversation has lulled, though, and for Harry, that just won’t do.

 

“Hey, Leigh-Anne,” he tries.

 

She looks up at him, an eyebrow raised in question.

 

“What’s the difference between a cake and a bus?”

 

“I don’t know, Harry.”

 

“Gee, I’m glad I didn’t send you to pick up my birthday cake!”

 

Harry dissolves into peals of laughter. He can’t help it; he loves that joke. Leigh-Anne rolls her eyes, but her manner is affectionate, and there are a few groans from other unimpressed passengers.

 

“Who wants to hear another one?” The response is less than affirming, so Harry decides to change tack. “ _At first I was afraid, I was petrified…_ ” he begins.

 

Silence.

 

“ _Kept thinking I could never live without you by my side…_ ” He nudges Jesy, who’s sitting across the aisle from him, with his elbow to try and convince her to join in. Miraculously, it works.

 

“ _But then I spent so many nights, thinking how you did me wrong, and I grew strong, and I learned how to get along!_ ” she chimes in, flawlessly picking up the harmony.

 

 _Holy daffodil_ , Harry thinks, _girl can sing_. Jesy’s participation spurs on the rest of the girls, and they join in for the second half of the verse. Harry sits back, satisfied that he has achieved what he set out to do.

 

After a while, the singing fades out again. No one can think of a good song that everyone knows, and peoples’ throats are beginning to get a bit husky from the excessive volume at which they’re singing. Harry surveys the bus and sees a spare seat next to the boy who introduced himself as Liam.

 

Wobbling his way down the aisle, Harry plonks himself down in the seat next to the good-looking boy.

 

“Hiii Li!” he says, in greeting.

 

Harry has been told on numerous occasions that he has a tendency to come across as a little over familiar, but so far that hasn’t stopped him from assigning new acquaintances nicknames almost immediately.

 

Liam smiles in return. “How you feeling, Harry? Your diaphragm forgiven you for all that exuberant singing you’ve been doing?”

 

“My diaphragm is made of steel, built to withstand the longest of bus trips, the most ridiculous of karaoke nights,” he quips back.

 

They chat a while, sharing friendly small talk that establishes that Liam and Andy have been travelling the world for a year, attempting to see as many natural and manmade wonders as they can.

 

“Do you know, the Great Barrier Reef is the largest living thing on Earth?” Liam asks him. Harry didn’t know that, and he asserts as much. Liam nods. “Not many people realise how important it is. It’s so big, you can see if from space!”

 

“Like the pyramids! And the Great Wall of China!” Harry adds. He breaks into a broad grin, happy with himself for knowing this little bit of trivia.

 

Liam gives him a pitying smile. “Sorry, Haz. A few people have apparently debunked those theories.”

 

At Harry’s disappointed look, Liam continues. “Although supposedly you _can_ see them if you have the right equipment. They’re just not visible to the human eye.”

Harry huffs out a sigh of mild annoyance, targeted at no one in particular, and Liam chuckles.

 

Harry quite likes Liam, he decides, although the guy’s a walking contradiction. He’s got a softness to his eyes like a puppy dog, which is juxtaposed with the firmness of his arm muscles. His gentle, affable nature is contrasted with the serious concern bordering on scorn when he starts talking about the Australian Government’s dredging plans which would “see the destruction of a significant portion of the reef”.

 

“So, is Andy as passionate about this issue as you are?” Harry queries when Liam’s finished his spiel.

 

The other boy rolls his eyes. “Not really. He’s mostly just here to tick another wonder off his bucket list and meet some new people. I think he’s a bit sick of hanging round with a cock-blocking grandpa all the time.”

 

Harry laughs at this, imagining Liam trying, and failing, to be a helpful wingman. He wonders how the two of them have survived the entire year as travel buddies.

 

As if reading his mind, Liam chimes in, “I don’t know how we’ve lasted this long together. It’s a miracle, really.”

 

They chat for a while longer, during which time Liam gives Harry a complete rundown of the fish and other sea creatures he’ll come across at the reef. Eventually, Harry excuses himself to go and sit beside Ed, who’s perched on a seat behind the loved-up couple Harry is yet to properly meet.

 

Harry leans around the side of the seat in front of him to see their faces. “Hiya!” he opens, cheerily. “I’m Harry!”

 

The couple, though initially shocked at being addressed in this way, introduce themselves as Taylor and Calvin. The latter has a strong Scottish accent and explains that he’s a DJ, which Harry thinks is rather cool.

 

“Do you play in, like, clubs or at festivals? Or just like, wedding receptions and birthday parties?”

 

Calvin scoffs a little at this, sending Harry’s mind sailing back to the previous night on the plane, where someone _else_ had scoffed at him. He quickly refocuses his attention on the rugged Scotsman speaking to him.

 

“Usually festivals, but I’ll do clubs in between to keep busy,” Calvin explains.

 

Harry’s eyebrows fly up of their own accord. “That’s really impressive!” he replies, genuinely, and he sees Calvin puff up a little at the acknowledgement.

 

“And what do you do, Taylor?” he asks the slim blonde with her arms draped around Calvin’s neck.

 

“I blog,” she responds simply, “and I have a pretty strong social media presence, which is how we ended up here.”

 

Harry and Ed exchange fleeting ‘ _is she being serious?’_ looks before fashioning their faces into more neutral expressions.

 

“Go on,” Harry prompts her.

 

“Oh, you know. I have a lifestyle and travel blog called _Swiftstyle_ \--you might have heard of it?” Seeing their blank looks, Taylor flicks her nails and sighs, bored. “Anyway, the tour company sent me free tickets for this trip, in exchange for me blogging about it.”

 

She dispassionately explains that all she needs to do in return is upload a strategically timed and tagged Instagram post twice a day depicting the huge amounts of fun they’re having. Harry briefly reconsiders his life choices, lamenting his decision to walk away from the blog he started--and posted on thrice--before abandoning it in a lonely corner of the internet.

 

Eventually, their conversation dies out as Taylor and Calvin fall back into private whispers. Harry leans his head against Ed’s shoulder, tired all of a sudden.

 

He’s now had decent conversations with all of his other travellers except Andy, Louis, and Louis’ beautiful companion. He writes any chance of getting to know Andy off, concluding that the guy is pretty much only interesting in talking to those in possession of female body parts, which just leaves the pair from the plane.

 

Harry counts it as significant progress that at least he now knows Louis’ name, and can file this with the rest of what he knows about the boy. So far, this includes, but is not limited to, the facts that he is very good with his hands and that he tastes good enough to make swallowing enjoyable, neither of which are particularly helpful for day-to-day use.

 

Harry has tried to give the guy some space today, as Louis appears to be doing his best to completely ignore Harry’s existence. Still, he finds himself constantly scanning his environment to check exactly where Louis is and what he’s doing. It’s a bit silly, really; something Harry only finds himself doing when he’s in the clutches of a new crush. But there’s no way he has a _crush_ on Louis. He’s obviously just confused because of the wild but fleeting affair in which they partook. Residual feelings are a thing, right?

 

It doesn’t escape Harry’s notice that Louis has been busy circulating the bus too. He’s outgoing and dramatic, as Harry gathers from eavesdropping on his conversations with each of their co-travellers. Presently, he can hear Louis in conversation with Perrie, a couple of seats behind Harry and Ed.

 

“One time, Zayn sat on the floor for hours trying to find a way of putting his M&Ms in alphabetical order,” Louis is saying, miming the precise action of sorting of the confectionary in such a way that leaves Perrie in hysterics.

 

“I did nothing of the sort!” his friend, who must be Zayn, protests.

 

“Now, now, Zee. Nothing to be embarrassed about,” Louis counters, and Harry knows he has a cheeky grin plastered on his face from the mischievous tone of his voice.

 

Harry really likes the way Louis sounds and can tell that they would balance each other out. Both of them are evidently capable of being playful and light-hearted, but Harry’s pretty sure Louis has a serious side hiding underneath that he’s guarding fiercely. _Who are you_ , he asks himself, shaking his head slightly at this unexpected foray into psychoanalysis. Still, Harry’s aware that he’s always been good at helping others work through their shit. He counts himself as a good listener and intuitively empathetic, but is also aware of the fact that he can be sensitive, and take people’s words and actions to heart too quickly. He’s pretty sure Louis doesn’t have that issue. _Maybe this could be a win win situation_ , Harry decides.

 

Harry interrupts his own thoughts to cast another look back at Louis, animatedly relaying a different story to Perrie, which is making Zayn shake his head in frustration, hands clamped over his face. The seat next to Zayn is conveniently free, and separated from Louis only by the tiny aisle. Sucking in a deep breath to try and summon courage, Harry stands and moves toward the empty space.

 

No sooner has Harry taken his place when Louis abruptly ends his conversation with Perrie, who looks momentarily alarmed, and practically hurls himself down the bus, into the newly-unoccupied seat next to Ed. It doesn’t escape Zayn’s notice, and as Harry turns to introduce himself officially to the boy, he catches him throwing a confused glance in Louis’ general direction.

 

“Sorry mate,” Zayn sighs. “Don’t know what’s gotten into him today. He’s not usually like this.”

 

Harry shakes his head slightly in response. “Don’t worry about it. I’m not really sure whether to take it personally or not, but in the meantime I won’t let it bother me.” He forces a smile onto his face, which Zayn returns.

 

It makes Harry feel that little bit better that he might not be over-analysing the situation. The fact that Zayn appears to have picked up on Louis’ avoidance strategy means it can’t all be in Harry’s head.

 

“So tell me,” he begins, shaking off the slightly awkward feel to their interaction so far. “What brings you and Louis to Australia?”

 

“Oh, you know,” Zayn mutters, “I was just feeling spontaneous, I suppose. Lou had some unexpected circumstances crop up and this was kind of the result.”

 

Zayn’s hesitation to give details is evident from his face, so Harry consciously bites back his curiosity. He’s well-versed in social etiquette and recognises the need to drop a subject.

 

From there, Zayn does share that he’s a graphic designer who has been best friends with Louis, an architect, since high school. He’s never been out of the UK before and apparently had to take a cocktail of relaxants to get him through the flight over. Harry remembers how very asleep Zayn seemed on the plane, and it all makes sense now.

 

He says as much, and Zayn gives him a puzzled stare.

 

“On the plane?” A look of recognition dawns on his attractive features. “Oh! I knew you looked familiar! You were seated in front of us, yeah?”

 

Harry nods, not sure whether to be relieved that Zayn’s memory of him is so limited. Either way, it means Louis hasn’t yet confided in him about their little tryst. He quickly moves the subject on to their mutual love of books, which carries them off on a wave of mutually agreeable chitchat.

 

It’s mid-afternoon and the Australian sun is still relentlessly throwing down heat from its place in the cloudless blue sky when the bus pulls up in the parking lot of Crescent Head’s surf beach.

 

When the vehicle comes to a halt, Nick swings around from his place in the passenger seat, a microphone in his hand, projecting his voice around the tiny space unnecessarily.

 

“Okay, my happy little travellers. Now that all of the awkward introductions are sorted, let’s get you into the surf!” he exclaims enthusiastically.

 

“Your surf instructors will be meeting you on the beach in ten minutes, where they will be teaching you how not to suck at surfing for an hour or so. The lesson is optional, so if you’re clumsy like Mr. Styles here, you can feel free to sun bake or make sandcastles or whatever tickles your fancy.”

 

“Oi!” Harry cries, indignantly.

 

“Harry, you almost fell headfirst into Sydney Harbour this morning, and don’t think I didn’t notice when you tripped up the stairs trying to get back on the bus.”

 

There’s not much Harry can say in his defence, and if he’s honest, Nick’s assessment is actually very true. Besides, he’d much rather be napping on his towel or running in for a quick dip before heading back to work on his non-existent tan than getting dumped and dunked by the ocean on a foam board. So, instead of protesting, he narrows his eyes playfully at Nick and folds his arms across his chest, sitting back to listen to the rest of the instructions.

 

The group pile off the bus like clowns in a circus car, stretching their limbs and cursing loudly at the sudden wave of heat that hits them as they leave their air-conditioned cocoon. Harry takes a brief moment to curse himself for habitually pulling on his black jeans this morning. It had been early, and he hadn’t been thinking.

 

He’s standing by the bus, wondering what to do about the situation, when Nick approaches.

 

“Alright, Harry?” he asks.

 

Harry reaches up to tug his hair back from his face, leaving his hand perched on the top of his head, his elbow forming a right angle with his head.

 

“Mmm, just a bit overdressed for the beach, I think…” he murmurs, eyebrows knitted in a frown.

 

Nick laughs. “The skinny jeans might look incredible, but they’re not the most practical choice.”

 

Harry blushes a little at the unexpected compliment. _Is Nick flirting with him?_

 

“Here, I’ll open the luggage compartment and you can change if you like,” the guide offers.

 

“That’d be great, thanks,” Harry replies.

 

Nick moves towards the side of the bus, placing a hand in the small of Harry’s back as he passes him. _Yep, Nick is flirting with me_ , Harry realises with a start. It’s not wholly unwelcome, either, he decides. Nick is attractive, there’s no denying that, and and Harry has never been one to shy away from physical affection and compliments offered by good-looking men. He shakes the thoughts out of his head as he goes about changing and Nick heads off to ensure the instructors have found the group successfully.

 

By the time Harry heads down to the beach in short, yellow boardshorts, the others are awkwardly pulling on wetsuits, yanking the neoprene into place while trying to stay upright. Leigh-Anne is unsuccessfully trying to get her foot through the opening of her wetsuit leg while balancing on the other foot. Harry spots Perrie sitting on a towel off to the side, laughing hysterically as she watches Leigh-Anne tumble back, bum first, onto the sand. He plonks himself down on Perrie’s towel and she affectionately slings an arm around his shoulders.

 

“I’m so glad you could join me. It’s a very entertaining show so far,” she giggles. “The view’s not too bad either, if you catch my drift…”

 

Harry doesn’t, until he follows her gaze and his eyes meet a _very_ impressive set of buttocks, firmly encased in tight, black material. He huffs out an approving breath, allowing his stare to wander upwards, until he reaches the very attractive face he’s spent all day trying _not_ to think about. A moment later, Louis’ eyes meet his and an embarrassed flush runs up Harry’s neck to his cheeks.

 

“Oh crap…” Harry mutters, and as Perrie turns to look at him Louis whips his head in the opposite direction, a vexed expression on his face.

 

“Harry! You’re all red!” she exclaims, her face breaking into a broad grin. “Like what you see, then?”

 

“Huh? No, probably just sunburnt. Pale English skin and all that,” he replies, letting out a weak laugh that he hopes will add some credibility to his blatant fib.

 

Perrie rolls her eyes, arching her eyebrow to silently articulate her disbelief, but she doesn’t press the matter any further. Harry appreciates this. He’s not keen to provide the first tidbits of tour-group gossip just hours into the trip, especially when just being checked out by Harry seemed to annoy Louis so much. He can’t even imagine how pissed the other boy would be if rumours starting about Harry having feelings for him.

 

Louis had made it abundantly clear on the plane that he was not interested in taking things further, reaffirming the fact this morning outside the bus. Harry didn’t mind initially--after all, they were on a flight to bloody Australia for chrissakes--when he realised he’d be spending the next few weeks in Louis’ presence, he let himself wonder, albeit briefly, if maybe the one-off tryst might extend to a few one-off trysts over the course of the tour. _Clearly, though, that won’t be the case_ , Harry reasserts to himself. He settles back and flick his sunglasses over his eyes so he can continue to perve in peace.

 

>>>I|I<<<

 

Louis sits, straddling his board as he bobs up and down with the movement of the ocean beneath him. He’d forgotten how peaceful surfing could be when one was not actively catching waves. From his position a little way out, he can make out Harry’s glistening body, stretched out on a towel but still wet from the fleeting venture he’d made into the waves a few moments ago.

 

Harry had come strolling confidently down the sand, hopping over the initial break and throwing himself under a few metres out, before running back up to the beach, limbs flailing as he yelled about the temperature of the water.

 

 _It’s silly,_ Louis thinks, _because Australia’s ocean is significantly warmer than the freezing British beaches, and it certainly couldn’t be considered cold at all. Though he is in a wetsuit,_ he reminds himself. Now, Harry’s long hair hangs limp over his slender shoulders, and even though Louis can’t make out the details from where he’s perched, he can imagine the drops of saltwater leaving the tips of each strand and languidly running down his bare chest. _Which is stupid because you really do not care about the boy from the plane_ , Louis chastises himself _. Not at all_.

 

“You gonna catch a wave, mate, or just sit there checking out the… uh… talent on the beach?” A humoured voice breaks through Louis’ thoughts, and he turns to meet Niall’s mirthful eyes.

 

“Hey, just biding my time. Don’t want to waste my energy on a wave that isn’t perfect,” Louis responds in what he hopes is a believably casual tone.

 

“He likes guys, you know?” Niall continues.

 

“Wha… What?!” Louis gapes, focusing his attention on not falling off his board.

 

“Harry. He likes guys.”

 

Louis frantically checks over his shoulder, hoping to find a wave in formation to provide him with a quick escape. No such luck.

 

Louis squares his shoulders and faces Niall. “I’m not sure why you think that information is relevant to me, Niall,” he says, nonchalantly.

 

Niall throws a disbelieving look in his direction, and mutters something under his breath that Louis can’t quite catch.

 

Thankfully, Louis feels the current pull back behind him and he turns to see a smooth curve building behind him. “Catch ya, Niall!” he exclaims as he starts paddling. The swell pulls him back as he throws his arms back and forth through the water and with relief he feels his board glide forward, caught by the wave. As he carefully goes through the motions of standing himself up on the board, he can’t help but cast a quick glance in Harry’s direction to see if the other boy is watching him. He’s got sunnies on, though, so it’s impossible to tell where he’s looking.

 

Not that it matters.

 

He rides the wave in, hopping off before the board runs aground. He briefly contemplates heading back out beyond the break to wait for another wave. He sees Niall still bobbing out there, though, and thinks better of it. Awkwardly tucking the big board under one arm, Louis makes his way up the sand to where about half of the group is now located.

 

They’re sunbaking, chatting, reading mostly, though Louis snorts when he notices Ed and Andy carefully burying a sleeping Zayn under a heavy layer of sand. He thrusts his board into the sand so it’s standing upright of its own accord and reaches awkwardly around to pull down the zip on the back of his wetsuit. A chill runs down his spine as he extricates himself from the tight fabric, feeling an instant freedom in his muscles.

 

Louis gets the suit halfway down and yanks it the rest of the way. Had he been surfing on his own, there’d be no way he would have bothered to keep swimming shorts on under the suit. He can already feel the sting on his legs from where they’ve rubbed up against the side of the board. He finally gets the tight cuffs of his wetsuit legs over his feet without tumbling over and chucks the wet bundle on the growing pile of discarded suits.

 

He tries his best not to notice Harry, who is lying on his stomach now, his back and shoulder muscles flexing attractively as he turns his head from its place on his right forearm to rest it on his left. Throwing a towel over his shoulders, Louis drags his gaze away and quietly stalks over to where Zayn is being buried. With an impish grin on his face, he starts fashioning the sand around Zayn’s feet into a mermaid’s tail.

 

>>>I|I<<<

 

“I’ve got sand in unspeakable places, Lou, and it’s all your fault,” Zayn grumbles later as he heads into the ensuite in their motel room.

 

“My fault? Zayn, you fell asleep on the beach in the company of a tour group made up predominantly of twenty-something males and you think it’s _my_ fault that you got buried in the sand?” Louis scoffs. “If anything, you should be thanking me for transforming your unattractive sand form into a bodacious sea creature. Much more flattering for the photos.”

 

Zayn picks up a cushion from an armchair and throws it at Louis, who ducks and sticks out his tongue.

 

“You’re going to have to try harder than that, Zee. Now, can you hurry up and shower, please? You’re not the only one with sand in your crevices.”

 

“Gross, Louis. Did you really have to use the word ‘crevices’ just now?” Zayn shakes his head, stomps the rest of the way to the bathroom, and slams the door shut behind him. Louis hears the flow of water start and sighs, flopping back on his bed. He’s absolutely exhausted, the hours he’d spent in the water far exceeding the amount of exercise he’d done in the past few weeks as a whole. The two weeks he’d had in London before leaving for the trip had been predominantly spent lying on Zayn’s couch, eating ice cream and pizza, watching old seasons of _The Bachelor_ and yelling abuse at the Bachelor every time he “just didn’t see a future” with one of the women. For this reason, Louis isn’t particularly in shape right now, and his body is positively groaning with fatigue after putting so many muscle groups to work today.

 

There’s a knock on the door and reluctantly Louis hoists himself up, his triceps protesting fervently and opens it to find Leigh-Anne and Perrie smiling at him.

 

“Louis! Great. We’ve just discovered that there’s a pub down the road from here that has a trivia night, so we’ve taken the liberty of signing the lot of us up as a team,” Leigh-Anne rambles excitedly. Perrie stands next to her, a hopeful look on her face.

 

He opens his mouth to protest on the grounds of tiredness, but Perrie gets in first.

 

“Before you tell us that you’re too tired from surfing, you should know that happy hour starts in an hour and pints are $3 until the trivia starts. Also, you’re on holiday and you probably shouldn’t waste the opportunity to be part of the Quizzee Rascals, who are most definitely going to win tonight.” Her hands are on her hips and her head is cocked slightly to one side, a no-nonsense expression on her face that reminds Louis of his mother.

 

 _She has a point._ They’ve come halfway across the world and it’d be pretty weak to spend their first proper night in bed resting.

 

Louis heaves a relenting sigh and forces a smile onto his face.

 

“Alright, alright, you had me at ‘pints are $3’,” he says and the girls squeal in response. “Let me shower and change and Zayn and I will meet you over there in a bit.”

  
He closes the door, summoning whatever energy he has left and mentally trying to transform it into some semblance of enthusiasm.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Stay tuned for Chapter 3- out later this week! P.S This whole Yacht debacle actually has a silver lining, because Chapter 8 (ish) was always going to take place on a yacht and now I have inspiration.


	3. Three: Not What It Seems

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Woohoo! More HL for your week. 
> 
> As usual, the biggest T H A N K Y O U to [gettingaphdinlarry](http://gettingaphdinlarry.tumblr.com) for working on this chapter 'til the cows came home (a fitting reference seeing as I'm in the middle of reading 'Wild and Unruly'). Y'all should be waiting with bated breath for when she releases a novel into the world, because she's a story master. We're also having fun trading US/AUS cultural references (What is Panadol? Why don't Americans say 'nup'?) so feel free to continue this discussion in the comments section. 
> 
> Also to [deadlylou](http://deadlylou.tumblr.com) and [Bear](http://bearmustard.tumblr.com) for being awesome and keeping me motivated.
> 
> Swing by tumblr and say hi to me at [spandeedie](http://spandeedie.tumblr.com) or drop me a note in the comments section. I seriously love getting comments. You guys are the greatest.

 

An hour later, Harry is befriending a group of local girls, nursing his third beer and listening to them discuss the latest scumbag to have thoughtlessly dumped one of their number. The door to the pub swings open, and Louis walks in, Zayn sticking closely to his side.

 

Harry’s head instantly fills with bubbles; the alcohol pulses through his veins, making him feel woozy. He takes in the muss-haired imp in the pale blue t-shirt. The colour so perfectly complements the golden tan he’s somehow acquired in their limited beach time. Harry groans internally. _It’s not fair, really, that someone should look that good_.

 

He sees Zayn look in his direction, and turns quickly back to the girls before he’s caught appraising Louis. For the next hour and two pints, he focuses intently on offering sage advice to the broken-hearted girl and her mesmerised friends, carefully ensuring his occasional glances round the room don’t land too obviously on his target.

 

Eventually, a broad-shouldered MC with leathery brown skin stands on a small platform,  microphone in his weathered hands. Feedback screeches throughout the pub as he taps it with his finger, causing many of the patrons to jump slightly.

 

“Welcome to the Crescent Head Tavern for our weekly trivia night,” he begins. “We’ve got some new faces in our midst tonight and therefore a slightly tougher competition, and I have it on good authority that the majority of our guests are from the UK so now’s our time to get payback for this year’s Ashes series.”

 

A cheer goes up from a couple of the tables.

 

“Or it’s our time to further embarrass the lot of you,” Andy heckles loudly in response, earning himself some unfavourable looks from the locals.

 

The MC gives a five-minute warning, and there’s a flurry of movement as teams organise themselves and hurry to the bar to get one last round of cheap beer. Harry stands up, hugging each of the slightly intoxicated girls before leaving them to join the Quizzee Rascals. Nick is amongst their number, which surprises Harry a little.

 

He glances round the crowded table at the sea of animated faces. “Talvin not coming?”

 

“Talvin?” Jade’s eyes flick up to the roof, lips pouting as she racks her brain for the people he could be referring to.

 

There’s an unoccupied seat next to Louis. Harry’s feeling confident from the ample drinks he has under his belt so he slips into it. “Taylor and Calvin. Bit slow tonight aren’t we, Jade?” He’s secretly pleased at being the first to use the portmanteau.

 

Jade’s face stretches into a grin. “Oh, no they wanted some time alone,” she scoffs. Then, “If they’re Talvin, what do we call this,” she asks, motioning between Harry and Louis. “Larry?”

 

Louis lets out a strangled noise as he turns to see what Jade is referring to. At the sight of Harry next to him, a slightly terrified look crosses his face. It’s not altogether unexpected, but Harry still has no idea why his presence invokes a strong reaction from the lad. Sure, it’s a little awkward being around someone you’ve gotten off with in the cramped, dirty space of an aeroplane bathroom, but aside from the occasional--okay _constant_ \--case of stomach butterflies it hasn’t affected Harry’s sanity.

 

“Larry is better than… Houis, I guess,” Harry throws Jade an exaggerated wink. He feels reckless and playful, and, yes, a little tipsy. _Careful not to overstep the mark, Styles_. Harry leans toward Louis’ ear and quietly reassures him. “You don’t have to freak out every time I get within ten metres of you, Tomlinson. I promise I won’t make you sit through another rom-com.”

 

His comment extracts a small laugh from the other boy, whose shoulders visibly relax, though his demeanour is still closed off. Louis’ eyes meet Harry’s briefly. Harry sees a glimmer of relief in them before Louis turns to resume his conversation with Andy.

 

He shoots a determined glance at the back of Louis’ head. _You_ _are going to be worth the effort_.

 

>>>I|I<<<

 

Over the course of the evening, Harry directs his chatter to the group and ensures there's a respectable gap between Louis’ and his own chair, despite a part of his brain admonishing him for not getting as close as physically possible to the stupidly attractive boy next to him.

 

In the final round, they’re asked to name the four official languages of Switzerland. Jade and Liam are debating whether Italian is a valid answer and though the argument started out jovial, Harry can see Liam’s teeth start to clench with frustration.

 

Harry decides to lighten the mood a little. “Someone asked me what was so great about Switzerland once.” He makes sure the attention of his teammates shifts in his direction. A few of the faces look puzzled by Harry’s interjection. “I told them, well, the flag’s a big plus.”

 

After a pause and round of groans, which Harry’s quite accustomed to hearing, a few people laugh. Most importantly, Louis turns to grin at him, a gleam of amusement in his eyes.

 

The pair of bright blue orbs linger on Harry’s face for just a little longer than Harry expects. His stomach squirms happily at the tiny little creases branching off from the corners of Louis’ eyes, the long lashes that frame them. _Louis is gorgeous_.

 

The Quizzee Rascals don't win the trivia night but they do come close, and their impressive knowledge of pop culture earns them a free round of drinks midway through the competition. When the results are called, Harry’s too busy exchanging blissful smiles with his teammates to care.

 

The lot of them walk back to the motel, a motley crew of slightly inebriated and sunburnt bodies. Louis starts singing loudly. “ _You don’t want no beef boy, know I run the streets boy, better follow me towards_ …”

 

“ _DOWNTOWN!_ ” they all chime in, and soon they're all belting out the words to Macklemore and Ryan Lewis’ song.

 

Louis’ voice is gravelly and strong. He hits the high notes easily, demonstrating an impressive range. Harry certainly wouldn't mind hearing more of it. He'd assumed that Louis’ reluctance to join in with the bus sing-along was due to a lack of ability, but now Harry wonders if it was actually a symptom of his discomfort due to the situation with Harry.

 

They reach their accommodation, Harry following Niall and Ed along the corridor and traipsing in behind them as they open the door to their tiny room. Niall is happily recounting a particularly fruitful conversation he had with Jade during the Film and TV round, rejoicing over his discovery that she is, in fact, single.

 

“Oh, Jesus,” Ed sighs, “Between the two of you I’m very much going to end up a fifth wheel on this trip.” He perches himself on the corner of his single bed, having earlier convinced Harry and Niall to share the double on the other side of the room.

 

“That’s probably best, for Gemma’s sake,” Niall retorts, drawing reference to Harry’s sister who, to Harry’s delight, had discovered and acted on her feelings for Ed a couple of years ago. They made a cute couple and it outweighed the initial weirdness of having his sister date one of his closest friends.  

 

“Hang on a second--between the two of us?!” Harry exclaims, confused. He shrugs and throws his hands out in front of him, palms to the ceiling. “What have I got to do with this?”

 

“Oh please, Harry. Don’t act like you haven’t spent the entire day ogling Louis when you think no one’s watching,” Ed laughs. “You’re like a schoolgirl with a crush.”

 

“I have not, and I _am_ not!” Harry replies, though a telltale flush runs up his cheeks. He’s going to have to be more careful tomorrow.

 

“I don’t blame you, Harry. If I swung that way I’d be chasing those baby blues too,” Niall says, coming up beside him to drape an arm comfortingly over Harry’s shoulders.

 

“Guys, this can’t become a thing,” Harry groans, bringing his hands up to cover his face.

 

“What do you mean this can’t become a thing?” Ed asks. “You’re a single 24-year-old on a tour of Australia with a guy who’s _completely_ your type. You can have a lovely fling for a couple of weeks then go your separate ways when we get back to Heathrow. It’s the perfect scenario.”

 

Harry doesn’t know how to explain to his friends that it is so very _not_ a perfect scenario. Despite initially signing up for a one night stand, Harry isn’t sure he’d be able to spend time with Louis for two weeks and then just pretend it never happened when they got home. He’s had his fair share of flings, and is practised at cutting ties and moving on, but something about this just feels... different.

 

He’s too interested in Louis as a person. Over the course of the night Harry found himself constructing a mental list. _Who are you? What’s in your past? Why are you so damn guarded?_

 

He can imagine running his fingers through Louis’ tousled brown mess of hair. He wants to touch each one of his scattered tattoos, find out the story behind them all. He wants to hear him talk about the buildings he’s designed. He wants Louis to sing around him freely, not needing the encouragement of alcohol to belt out whatever song is on his mind.

 

It’s all a little intense, if Harry’s honest.

 

Harry doesn’t try and explain it to his friends. Instead, he gives an exasperated sigh and deftly changes the topic to Niall’s budding romance with Jade, hoping his friends get the hint and drop it.

 

>>>I|I<<<

 

A few doors down, Louis lets himself and Zayn into their room. Zayn’s leaning heavily on Louis’ shoulders, pressing small kisses to Louis’ cheek on an intermittent basis. “Love you, Boo Bear,” he repeats happily. Zayn’s an adorable drunk, which only just makes up for his awful moods when hungover.

 

Somehow, they manage to get themselves washed up and into bed. Zayn pushes his bed closer to Louis’ before getting under his covers. “Boo?” Louis hears him whisper.

 

“Yeah?”

 

“Liam says he’s _gay_!” Zayn’s voice is full of glee, a contented smile on his face.

 

“Does he now?” Louis replies affectionately. “And does that make you happy, Zee?”

 

Zayn doesn’t seem to register the question. “He’s quite lovely, isn’t he?”

 

Louis grins in the dark, and his thoughts turn to Harry. _Harry, who’s also quite lovely_. _Who sat next to you all night. Louis and Harry. Larry._ A giggle bursts out of his mouth, but the only response from Zayn is the steady huff of sleeping breaths. Louis’ eyes drift shut, fatigue and alcohol sending him, too, into a deep and dreamless sleep.

 

The next morning, they are given the option of a morning swim and surf before getting back in the bus to drive to Byron Bay. Louis wakes early with a throbbing headache. His throat is as dry as paper and his stomach roils with nausea. He throws some panadol down his throat and chugs a litre of water, casting a glance at Zayn’s sleeping form in the other bed which, strangely, is now much closer to his than he remembers.  

 

Louis groans, reminded of his age. The first time he got drunk at 16, he fell asleep on a friend's musty couch. He woke up mere hours later, amazed that his head felt so clear. His friends were convinced he had superpowers, and for a while Louis felt invincible. Unfortunately, as he got older, this superpower had diminished, as his pounding head made clear.

 

He reluctantly drags his sore muscles out of his hotel bed and into the shower. The water is decidedly lukewarm, which is surprisingly pleasant. Louis still hasn’t quite adjusted to Australia’s early summer temperatures. He tips his head back and opens his mouth, allowing the stream to lubricate his raspy throat. Minutes pass before Louis feels clearheaded enough to shut off the taps. He steps out, wraps a soft white towel around his waist and makes his way back into the room.

 

Glancing at the clock radio, he sees it’s still far too early to wake Zayn. They’ve spent so little time here that they barely need to pack anything, and there’s still a lot of time before they leave so Louis decides he may as well rack up some more time in the ocean.

 

Fifteen minutes later, he’s trudging down the path to the beach with a hired board tucked under his arm. He has foregone the wetsuit today in the hope that the cold water will relieve him of his hangover. He paddles out and sits beyond the break, listening to the ocean fill in the quiet of the morning with its ambient crashes and the lapping of water against his board.

 

He catches a few waves--pleased with his increasing ability to ride confidently across the face of each one--and has just made his way out once more when he sees a lanky figure ambling down the sand dunes. He squints, trying to get a better idea of what he’s seeing. The constant exposure to saltwater has left his eyes sore and a bit blurry. His vision comes into focus he sees that it’s Harry. _Bloody Harry_.

 

Louis has the self-awareness to admit that if he’d met Harry in any other circumstance, the tall, green-eyed boy would be his type. Louis finds him unbearably attractive and appreciates the easy affability that brings Harry favour with everyone he meets. He seems to be casually confident and self-assured, and Louis realises that he both envies and admires each of these qualities in the other boy. On the other hand, Harry’s an infuriatingly slow talker, and spent the entirety of the trivia night the evening before making terrible puns and lame jokes, which only decreased in quality with each drink he consumed. The problem is, even those little things that detract from his appeal make Louis a little bit weak at the knees.

 

The lack of control he has over his emotions is frustrating, so Louis continues trying to convince himself that this whole Harry thing is a bad case of ‘wrong place, wrong time’. It’s a shame, but it needs to be filed away with no further action. Louis’ heart is still smarting from the blow it was dealt just weeks ago.

 

Louis has been accused by many a romantic interest of being too guarded and cold. He’s never found it easy to trust people, and if he wanted to psychoanalyse himself, he’d trace it back to his biological father walking out when Louis was still a toddler. Then there was the breakdown of his mum’s second marriage and the subsequent loss of the closest thing to a father Louis had known. He’d held the pieces together, acting as a reassuring presence to his little sisters, who didn’t understand yet that it was possible for people to fall out of love. The whole thing with Sam is just the icing on the cake, really, and Louis gets a sudden rush of anger at Sam for giving him yet another reason not to let people in.

 

The figure in the distance stops where the dunes meet the beach, collapses onto the sand and props himself up on his elbows and forearms as he stretches out on his back. Louis watches Harry scan the horizon and catches the exact moment he sees Louis, bobbing up and down in the waves. Harry raises one hand in a small, shy wave. Reluctantly, Louis lifts two fingers from his board in reply. Harry’s eyes don’t linger, and Louis is free to return to his contemplation.

 

A few minutes pass before a good, clean swell builds behind Louis, and he rides the wave in. Unlike yesterday, there’s no doubt that this time Harry is watching him. Feeling an annoying urge to impress him, Louis makes the last-minute decision to attempt a frontside snap. He straightens his legs and back and hurtles up the wave, twisting his body a second later to bring himself back down the face of it. Somehow, he manages to stay upright, and with only a small wobble he straightens up and rides the wave right into shore.

 

As he hops off in the shallows and walks toward the dry sand, Louis hears a slow clap begin. Harry is smirking as he brings his hands together, well aware that he’s baiting Louis by drawing attention to his performance.

 

“Bow in the presence of greatness, Styles,” Louis quips dryly. He picks up his towel from where he’d carelessly dropped it on the sand and rubs the excess water out of his hair.

 

“I would, if I weren’t knocked off my feet by that stunt you just pulled, Lewis,” Harry replies smoothly, the smirk still firmly on his face.

 

Louis grunts in response and his right eyebrow quirks fleetingly, but he can’t keep the edges of his mouth from turning up **.** Harry’s hand reaches out and pats the sand next to where he’s sitting, a silent invitation. Annoyingly, there’s a niggling voice in Louis’ head encouraging him to take this opportunity to spend time with Harry. His heart beats a bit faster and his stomach gives a little twist in agreement.

 

Louis is about to give in to his body’s urges when his brain conjures up images of the two of them awkwardly discussing the plane incident. A wave of nausea strikes his churning stomach. They’ve come this far without acknowledging it, and Louis would prefer to keep it that way.

 

Before he realises what he’s doing, Louis spurts out a series of incohesive excuses. “I-- we’re heading off soon, yeah? Haven’t finished packing… Gotta run, hey?” He stumbles over his words, gesticulating with one hand while the other loops his towel around his neck and picks up his board, hoisting it back up under his arm. “I’ll see you on the bus!” he finishes, turning and striding up the sand toward the bitumen path at the top of the dunes.

 

He sneaks a glimpse over his shoulder and sees Harry watching him leave, mouth slightly ajar and eyebrows furrowed. He looks disappointed, but not surprised, like he was hoping for a positive response from Louis without truly believing he’d get one. Louis tucks his chin down and continues on his way, feet kicking up grains of sand as he goes.

 

 _Well done, Tommo_ , he thinks sarcastically. He doesn’t want to give Harry a reason to believe he might be nervous around him, because that might lead to Harry thinking Louis has feelings for him and, let’s face it, that’s the last thing Louis needs right now. _You’re out of practice at being single_ , he realises with frustration.

 

A weight settles on his shoulders as he contemplates his situation. He will need to re-learn how to navigate his way through casual hookups and, maybe one day, the dating process. His chest tightens at the thought. Perhaps life with Sam got a little mundane towards the end there, but it was familiar and easy. There were no learning curves or awkward conversations to be had. _Aside from the whole ‘I’ve been seeing someone else’ one. That was fairly awkward_ , he reminds himself.

 

When he reaches the path he finds Taylor posing with her back to him, clearly trying to take a selfie with the beach visible in the background. He rolls his eyes and slips past her, unnoticed despite the fact that he’s lugging a board with him.

 

>>>I|I<<<

 

The grains of sand slip through his fingers, tickling them in a soothing manner as they fall to the beach. Harry grabs another handful and repeats the process, breathing the salty air in deeply and staring back out at the water. He hadn’t intended on interrupting Louis’ morning surf, but needed the fresh air after waking up feeling like a sledgehammer had lodged itself in the side of his head. _Louis probably thinks you’re some kind of stalker now_. _A clingy hanger-on who hasn’t moved past your little rendezvous. Ugh_. Harry’s nose wrinkles in disgust and he reluctantly resolves to give Louis a wide berth for the next couple of days. It’s not what he’d prefer, but in the grand scheme of things it’s what the situation requires.

 

Some time later, he’s back in their room, getting his things together while Niall and Ed drag themselves around, slowly packing up while grumbling about their respective hangovers. None of them feel particularly like eating a proper breakfast, so Harry simply grabs a banana from the corner shop next to the carpark, throwing in a couple of postcards for good measure.

 

As it makes its way up north, the bus is significantly quieter than it was previously, so Harry finds amusement by watching his fellow travellers. Andy’s head lolls from side to side as he sleeps upright, a tiny trail of drool escaping from the corner of his mouth. Taylor swipes through her camera roll making little noises of frustration while Calvin sits calmly at her side. In front of them, Niall looks like the cat that ate the canary. He’s talking in hushed tones to Jade, who’s occupying the seat next to him, but Harry is disappointed to find that even if he strains his ears he can’t eavesdrop on their conversation.

 

Louis has headphones on, and gazes out the window thoughtfully. He looks like something out of a music video. Jesy is curled up beside him with her head on his shoulder, eyes closed peacefully. Harry gets an irrational pang of jealousy but pushes it away, moving his focus to the stunning Australian coastline.

 

By the time they arrive in Byron, people are starting to wake up, and the usual noisy conversation has resumed. Harry has listened to Taylor prattle on to Jade about her life as an Instagram star for a good thirty minutes and he’s ready to lean over and extract Jade from the monotonous, self-absorbed chatter when another voice pipes up.

 

“Are you quite done, Taylor?” Louis admonishes. “I’m sure I’ve heard more about sponsored posts and flat tummy tea in the past half an hour than I ever would have cared to know.”

 

Taylor swings around in her seat to face Louis, looking mildly indignant but unwilling to let the full measure of her vexation show. “You know you could always try not listening in on other people’s conversations, Louis?” she replies. Her voice is smooth, though she caps off her question with a wry smile.

 

“Oh believe me, love, I was trying,” he counters, more than a hint of asperity present in his tone.

 

Harry’s a little surprised by this. He’s already seen signs of Louis’ capacity for sass and banter, but he must be a fair sight more confident than Harry had given him credit for if he’s speaking like this to Taylor after only meeting her yesterday **.** _Maybe he’s just super hungover_ ** _,_** Harry reasons. He shrugs it off and swings his backpack over his shoulder, standing to make his way off the bus now that it’s pulled to a stop outside their accommodation.

 

A few hours later, Harry has already decided that Byron Bay is his type of place. They’re strolling down the main strip of shops, which has so far presented him with many opportunities for green smoothies, henna tattoos and feather hair extensions. He may or may not have a couple of multi-coloured emu feathers attached to a strand close to the nape of his neck. _When in Byron…_

 

On his way into the information booth, Harry’s eye catches on a sign advertising morning yoga on the beach, and he resolves to participate the following morning. He has his yoga mat packed in his suitcase, much to Ed and Niall’s amusement, and needs to make sure he uses it so the jibes he tolerated weren’t made in vain.

 

He’s rifling through the selection of postcards when he’s interrupted by his friends.

 

“Edward Christopher Sheeran, get your butt over here and take a look at this!” Niall exclaims, waving a garishly decorated pamphlet at Ed.

 

Ed glances at it, confused. “The Happy Coach? What does it do, take you back in the future to Woodstock?”

 

Harry snorts. It’s a fair assessment, given all the technicolour peace symbols and flowers, and the psychedelic font.

 

“Better, mate,” Niall says conspiratorially. “It takes you to _Nimbin_.” He wiggles his eyebrows suggestively, but neither Harry nor Ed look any more enlightened.

 

“Niall, that sounds like a land that belongs at the top of the bloody Faraway Tree!” Ed quips. He and Harry fall over each other laughing, but Niall remains standing, fixing his face into a look of superior understanding.

 

“I’ll have you boys know that Nimbin is, and I quote, ‘well known for its cannabis counterculture and has been referred to as the drug capital of Australia’. This bus takes you there and gives you a tour. So...” Niall trails off.

 

Harry lets out an exasperated groan. He’s not against marijuana, and he certainly won’t judge his friends for using it, but he’s mostly given up smoking it since finishing university.

 

As the others make loose plans to head to Nimbin the following morning, Harry picks up some pamphlets about whale watching at the Cape Byron Lighthouse. _Could be good_ , he thinks. He actively tries _not_ to think about how much more fun it would be to go whale watching with someone like, say, Louis. Thankfully, his stomach chooses that moment to let out an angry rumble, reminding him of their original intentions for this excursion. Harry pockets the brochure and pays for his postcards before the three of them resume their search for lunch.

 

That night, the crew make a noble attempt to hit Byron Bay’s handful of nightclubs, but Harry decides not to drink. He’s still recovering from the last hangover and wants to avoid getting another one. Furthermore, he still fully intends to go along to morning yoga, which starts at some ungodly hour. He’s reached a point in his life where he wants to treat his body kindly, and for the past couple of years has made habits of green smoothies, yoga and clean eating. It’s a decision that hasn’t always been met with acceptance by those he’s been romantically interested in, but Harry persists.

 

On the other hand, Ed, Niall, Zayn and Louis don’t seem to mind the prospect of back-to-back hangovers. The four of them are downing pints of local beer and dancing ridiculously, jostling one another around the dance floor in a hurricane of bodies.

 

Harry finds himself at the bar next to Liam, who’s been deserted by Andy in favour of the group of girls. They decide that he’s probably angling for Perrie’s affections, but can’t be 100 percent sure, what with the way he’s got an arm slung around Leigh-Anne at the same time.

 

Harry’s quite happy to spend more time getting to know Liam. He’s lovely and easy to talk to. The two of them have been chatting openly for the past hour or so, from which Harry has gleaned that Liam’s into guys, works in music production and wants to get into songwriting. He tells Harry that he and Andy have been friends their whole lives, their mums having met in mothers’ group prior to giving birth.

 

“What brings you to Australia?” Liam enquires, and Harry realises that he never actually got a chance to explain this to Liam during their chat the other day.

 

Harry launches into his well-practised answer about the busking and the plan with Niall and Ed, and Liam listens intently.

 

“It’s funny, isn’t it, all the different reasons we ended up here?” Liam wonders out loud when Harry’s finished. He’s leaning on the bar in front of them, resting his cheek on the palm of his hand.

 

“Innit? Although I still don’t know much about Zayn and Louis’ motive,” Harry replies casually, secretly hoping that Liam might be able to fill him in.

 

“Oh? Don’t you? Zayn was telling me the other night.”

 

_Jackpot._

 

“I don’t know if Louis wants this to be public knowledge, but it was supposed to be a trip for him and his ex. Then the bastard broke up with him two weeks before we got here, so Zayn took his spot,” Liam explains.

 

_Well, that explains the standoffish behaviour and intimacy issues._

 

“Naw, the poor guy. Lucky he’s got Zayn to make sure he has a good time regardless,” Harry says slowly, trying to maintain a look of emotionally-removed sympathy.

 

“Yeah, he seems a little guarded, doesn’t he? Not surprised really. Apparently the breakup was mixed in with an admission of cheating. That’d be a tough pill to swallow.” Liam takes a swig of beer, looking genuinely distressed, and Harry’s heart swells with affection for his new friend.

 

Not wanting to seem overly eager for information about Louis and thus reveal his interest, Harry changes the topic. “So, is there a lucky guy in your life?” he asks. Harry’s tone is playful but the question causes the other boy to blush.

 

Liam looks down at the ground, and doesn’t say anything.

 

“There is! Go on, then. Who is he?” Harry squeezes Liam’s shoulder affectionately and grins at him.

 

“Nooooo,” Liam moans, sinking his head down to rest on his forearms. “It’s nothing.”

 

“Pshhh, it is _not_ nothing!” Harry counters. “You’re besotted.” Liam mumbles something that is lost amidst the thumping beats that fill the club. “What’s that, Liam?” Harry cups his hand to his ear, straining to hear what he is saying.

 

“I said I might have developed a tiny crush on Zayn!” Liam straightens suddenly as the words blurt out. His increase in volume coincides with an unfortunately-timed break in the music so his words ring out clearly in Harry and Liam’s vicinity.

 

A terrified look crosses Liam’s face as he frantically scans his surroundings to see who might have heard. Harry desperately tries to force his face into a neutral expression but his eyes fix on a spot just over Liam’s shoulder. Following Harry’s gaze, Liam swings around and finds himself face-to-face with Zayn.

 

Liam’s jaw drops and he takes a couple of steps back into Harry, who places a firm hand on each of Liam’s biceps to hold him steady.

 

“How are we doing, lads?” Zayn starts. There’s an awkward air to his voice, but Harry isn’t sure if it’s because Zayn has overheard them or because he’s interrupting their conversation.

 

“Zayn, hey! We’re good thanks.” Harry aims for a casual tone. “Great DJ this is…”

 

A strangled gasp comes flying out of Liam’s mouth and before Harry can stop him, he’s fleeing from the scene, making his way out of the club.

 

“Looks like we’re off then, mate,” Harry says quickly. “Have a good night!” He raises his hand in a wave and rushes out after Liam, leaving a confronted looking Zayn in their wake.

 

>>>I|I<<<

 

Louis is covered in sweat, dancing unrestrainedly in the middle of the dance floor. The music has him swept up in a trance so he’s only vaguely aware of Niall and Ed’s flailing bodies crushing in around him.

 

Out of the corner of his eye, Louis sees Liam make a beeline for the club’s exit. A couple of seconds later, he watches as Harry follows him out, glancing back over his shoulder nervously as he disappears. Louis’ trance breaks immediately at this.

 

His eyes land on Zayn, who is standing by the bar with a strange look on his face. Vaguely, he hears Zayn’s voice in his memory. _“He’s quite lovely, isn’t he?”  
_

 

Everything clicks into place in Louis’ somewhat inebriated mind. _Liam and Harry. Harry and Liam. Leaving togeth--shit._

 

Louis makes his way over to his friend, assuring himself that the sinking feeling he has in his stomach is purely due to concern for Zayn.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoyed that! Let me know what you think in the comments or come see me on tumblr :)
> 
> I'm going away for 5 days, so the next instalment might be a bit late--I won't have steady internet and so won't be able to coordinate as efficiently with my betas. Home next Wednesday so with any luck you'll be getting a chapter next Wednesday night and one on Saturday... I'll do what I can!


	4. Four: I Won't Hold You Hostage, And I Won't Set You Free

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> ;)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was a fun chapter to write. 
> 
> It is a little late, and for that I apologise- I was in transit yesterday so couldn't post. 
> 
> [gettingaphdinlarry](http://gettingaphdinlarry.tumblr.com) is a legend who actually makes me die laughing with her comments on my work. Thank you for giving up so much time to help me with this.
> 
> Also to [deadlylou](http://deadlylou.tumblr.com) and [Bear](http://bearmustard.tumblr.com) as usual :)
> 
> Swing by tumblr and say hi to me at [spandeedie](http://spandeedie.tumblr.com) or drop me a note in the comments section. I love hearing your thoughts on how the fic is going :)
> 
> P.S the romantic sunset I referenced in the comments and said would be happening in Ch 4 is now in Ch 5! Sorryyyy!!!

Liam stumbles down the street, desperately inhaling the night air as he escapes the thick club atmosphere. Harry races down the stairs after him, and catches up to him a few metres down the road. “Liam! Li! Wait,” he pleads.

 

Liam spins around and stands facing Harry. His pupils are dilated and his body sways on the spot. “He heard me, didn’t he, Harry?” he asks, biting his lip.

 

Harry shakes his head slightly, his chest still heaving from his sprint. “I don’t know, honestly. He could have but he seemed pretty genuinely confused when you ran out.”  

 

Liam sucks a deep breath in, and releases it slowly. “Are you sure, Haz?” It breaks Harry’s heart seeing his new friend standing there, crossing and uncrossing his arms as he waits for reassurance.

 

Harry wishes he could give Liam a more definite answer. “I don’t know,” he repeats with a shrug. “But Li, really, even if he did hear, maybe it’s a good thing. Maybe it will prompt him to act on it?” He moves to Liam’s side and links arms with him, tugging him gently into a slow walk.

 

Liam doesn’t seem convinced, but his posture relaxes and he moves willingly. “I feel like such an idiot. Have you seen him? Zayn, I mean? He’s like… he’s like a bloody Michelangelo sculpture. Those cheekbones?” Liam’s rambling now, but it’s in a calmer tone.

 

Harry feels as though he has permission to giggle at this comparison. “It’s like he’s constantly being photographed by Annie Leibovitz,” he adds.

 

“It’s like his body was designed by Frank Lloyd Wright.” Liam is grinning now.

 

“Ooh, architecture reference! Louis would be impressed!” Harry can’t help but make the connection, hoping it’s not too telling. Fortunately, Liam seems a little too lost in his own situation to notice.

 

There’s a pause in the conversation, and they walk the streets in comfortable silence for a couple of minutes. It’s a delightfully balmy evening, the day’s heat trapped in by the heavy clouds above them. The streets are quiet at this late hour, but occasionally a taxi whizzes past them, carrying a fellow reveller home.

 

Eventually, Liam pipes up again. “It’s like, when he’s in the same room as me, there’s this electricity in the air that won’t let me forget that he’s nearby. Is that crazy?” He glances up at Harry, rubbing the back of his neck with his free hand.

 

Harry wants so badly to tell Liam that no, it’s not crazy--that he feels something similar when Louis is in the same space as him--but instead, he murmurs an ambiguous agreement.

 

“People don’t come on these things to find someone serious though, do they?” Liam asks. “Like, it’s a fun, short trip. You’re supposed to be up for a fling at most, yeah?”

 

Harry’s taken aback by how accurately Liam’s words reflect the thoughts that have been careening around in Harry’s head for the last few days.  “I suppose…” Harry begins. “But that doesn’t mean there can’t be exceptions to the rule, Li.” Harry furrows his brow, unsure if he’s truly addressing Liam or himself. “Right?”

 

Liam doesn’t answer, and they fall silent once more. They walk for what seems like an age, eventually making it back to their hotel exhausted and sober. They make their way up to Liam and Andy’s room. It’s empty, which doesn’t surprise either of them. All of a sudden Liam is breathing heavily again, verging on hyperventilating. His eyes dart around the room and he wraps an arm around his own waist, as if keeping himself from falling apart.

 

“Whoa, whoa, Liam. What’s happened? You were doing great!” Harry soothes. He pulls the other boy into a tight hug, one hand resting firmly on the back of Liam’s head.

 

“Oh my God, Harry, he totally heard me, didn’t he? And now he’s laughing about it with Louis and Ed and Niall and they’ll think I’m ridiculous and I’ll never be able to look at any of them again and the rest of this trip is going to be awkward and awful and…” Liam breaks out of Harry’s embrace as he trails off, throwing himself onto his bed face down. His worries are punctuated with a smothered cry.

 

“Liam, mate, breathe!” Harry sits down next to him on the bed, rubbing one hand comfortingly over Liam’s back. “You’re catastrophising. It’s going to be okay.” He receives a muffled grunt in reply, and lets out a sigh. “Listen, I’ve known Ed and Niall since we were little and I know neither of them would ever think you were ridiculous. I mean, Christ, they’ve seen Zayn. No one’s going to think you’re ridiculous for having a crush. Not to mention the fact that Zayn himself seems sweet and sensitive enough not to tell anyone, except maybe Louis, and even then it wouldn’t be with the intention of _laughing_ about it.”

 

Harry normally likes to select his reassuring words more carefully, but at this stage he just needs to get Liam calm enough to sleep. A glance at the alarm clock on the bedside table tells him that it’s almost 3am. He lies down next to Liam.

 

Liam rolls onto his side and shifts closer, closing the gap between them so his forehead is resting against Harry’s chest. “Thanks, Haz,” he whispers. “I know I’m being silly, but thanks for looking after me.”

 

Harry presses a brief kiss to the gelled top of Liam’s hair. “’S no problem, Li. I’ve become rather fond of you in the past 48 hours.” Liam looks up at him and gives a small smile. “You reckon you’ll be okay to fall asleep now?” Harry asks, gently.

 

Liam nods, kicking off his shoes and climbing under the covers. Harry stands up and moves to the doorway. “Night, Liam,” he murmurs.

 

“Night, Harry.”

 

Slipping out of Liam’s room, Harry hears voices in the distance exchanging parting words. The brief conversation is followed by footsteps and suddenly Louis appears around the corner.

 

Louis’ cobalt eyes initially betray a hint of distress before settling into his trademark cool and impenetrable facade of insouciance. His chin jutted up, Louis nods at Harry before striding straight past him.

 

Harry sighs deeply. _Shit_.

 

>>>I|I<<<

 

Tucked in a secluded spot near the end of Byron Beach, Harry unfolds his body from Pigeon Pose and stretches into Triangle Pose. His head positioned toward the now cloudless sky ahead, he squints his eyes to fend away the glare of the morning sun.

 

Harry started practicing yoga to help the mild back pain he’s had since forever, but stayed for the relaxation and satisfaction he got from mastering a new pose. Though his intention this morning had been to join one of the many advertised yoga classes, Harry had instead wandered down the beach, overcome by a rare desire for solitude. A lighthouse sat majestically on top of the cliff at the end of the stretch of sand. Harry had unrolled his mat near the base of the rock face.

 

His attempts to relax are thwarted by persistent flashbacks to the night before. Harry lets his body collapse onto the sand, sighing as he recalls first the look on Louis’ face as Harry raced out of the club in pursuit of Liam. The narrowed eyes. His furrowed brow. His mouth agape. Louis’ head shaking almost imperceptibly. Then later, outside Liam’s room. The sharp nod--it felt like a warning to Harry.

Harry rubs a hand over his forehead, scrunching his face in helpless frustration. This whole thing couldn’t be messier if Harry was _actively_ trying to sabotage his chances with Louis.

 

 _Maybe you can play this out in a different way_ , he thinks, propping himself up on his elbows and casting his eyes out over the ocean. The waves are crashing steadily on the shore creating a rhythmic backing track to his thoughts. _Let Louis think what he wants. See if it makes him realise he wants you after all._ Harry’s shoulders roll back and his lips press together tightly. _Otherwise,_ he thinks, _it might just clear things up if he’s convinced you’ve moved on._

 

His brows knit together as his head falls to one side. _This isn’t you. You don’t play games._ Harry shakes his head, trying to push away his conscience. He’s always been too open, believing the best in everyone he meets and wanting to give them his most genuine self in return. _And look where that’s left you._

 

Harry lets out a sigh. The voice in his head has a point. _Maybe it’s time to fight for what you want for once._

 

Harry runs his hand over his hair, which is pulled back in a bun, and brings his knees up under his chin, looking down to where his other hand is mindlessly sweeping sand back and forth. As far as plans go, it’s not preferable, but it might just have to do.

 

>>>I|I<<<

 

Louis is up early again, feeling a lot like Bill Murray’s character in _Groundhog Day_. As he makes his way down to the hotel dining room for a cup of tea, he sees a folded piece of blue card lying on the floor of the corridor. He picks it up and skims the contents. It’s a pamphlet for whale watching up at the lighthouse. Consulting the map on the back, he realises it’s just at the other end of the main beach--not too far away.

 

Louis marches out of the hotel and down the path that leads directly to the beach. The morning sun is warm and the air is as humid as ever, leaving him breathing heavily after only a few minutes. The pamphlet said to follow the beach to the end and ascend the cliff using the established trail, but when he’s finally standing at the foot of the huge rock face, he can’t for the life of him find where to go. _I really should have had that cup of tea before he left_ , he thinks through the pounding of his head.

 

Surveying his surroundings, he sees someone sitting on the beach slightly further up. _They’re on a yoga mat, so they’re probably a local_ , Louis reasons as he makes his way over to ask for directions. “’Scuse me, mate,” he begins. “I’m trying to find the trail up to the lighthouse?”

 

The man looks up in fright, dragged out of his contemplative state and...  _Oh_. _That face is familiar._

 

“Louis…” Harry says quietly, his face lighting up when he recognises Louis. Harry lifts a hand to shade his eyes from the sunlight and sits there, squinting up at him.

 

“Harry!” Louis chokes, startled. His mind races back to the night before when he’d caught Harry emerging from Liam’s room at 3am. “I’m so sorry to interrupt you. Were you doing yoga?” he asks. _Since when are you this polite? Get it together, Tomlinson._

 

“Mmm, I was. I’m done now, though. Just admiring the view,” Harry responds. He leans back on  one elbow, the other hand still shielding his forehead. “You gonna climb up to the lighthouse?”

 

“That was the plan, yeah,” Louis admits, clearing his throat. He shuffles his feet around in the sand.

 

Harry nods slowly. A moment of silence falls between them before he speaks. “I got a pamphlet yesterday that said you could see whales from up there some mornings.”

 

“Ah. Was it this one?” Louis asks, extracting the crumpled card from his pocket. He smooths it out and presents it to Harry, feeling like a child showing their artwork to a parent.

 

“Oh, yep. That’s it,” Harry affirms. Then, more tentatively, “Shall we go?” He bites his lip as he waits for Louis to respond.

 

Louis’ mind runs through the possible consequences of a trip to the lighthouse with Harry. If the other boy is involved with Liam now that lowers the risk significantly. Also, he probably owes it to Harry to be friendly after running out on him at the beach the day before--despite the fact that the younger boy is partially to blame for Zayn’s mood deflating last night.

 

“Sure. Why not?” he says, pasting a small smile on his face as he reaches out a hand to help Harry up.

 

Harry rolls up his mat, tucking it under one arm and brushing sand off his legs. He takes Louis’ hand and lets go of it quickly. “I think I saw a break in the bushes over here somewhere,” he murmurs, gesturing for Louis to follow him over to the scrub at the top of the sandy shore.

 

They find the trail with just enough ease to make Louis feel a bit silly for not being able to see it on his own, and start the steep ascent in a mutual silence. As they wind around the cliff face Harry leads the way, giving Louis ample opportunity to appreciate his thick thighs and toned butt. He must be the only person in the universe who practices yoga in tight denim shorts.

 

Harry’s limbs are long and slender, but he’s far from graceful. He trips and stumbles his way up the track, causing Louis to cry out in concern more times than he’d care to admit. Just before the summit, they reach a platform with a plaque, alerting them to the fact that they are at the easternmost point of Australia.

 

Harry studies the information carefully, one hand resting on his hip, the other running through his messy bun. “This place would be excellent at sunset!” he exclaims excitedly.

 

Louis hums in agreement. “We should bring everyone back here this evening,” he suggests, casually. _What are you doing, Louis? Have you lost your mind?_

 

Harry turns to look at him, grinning. “We should,” he says, with a firm nod. Harry drags his gaze down Louis’ body before making eye contact once more. “Good idea, Lou.”

 

Louis’ heart flutters annoyingly when the other boy uses his nickname. He frowns and turns away, pushing on up the trail toward the huge lighthouse looming over them from the cliff’s peak. _It was nothing_ , Louis tells himself. _You’re tired and hungover and this is just temporary insanity._

 

He thinks back to the night before. Harry standing awkwardly outside Liam’s door. The way his eyes had widened in shock when Louis had come around the corner. The expression of guilt on his features. Louis winces. _Harry has moved on. You made it clear you didn’t want him so he moved on._ _It’s for the best._ Louis stares at his feet as they move along the path in heavy steps. _You don’t do relationships. You couldn’t give Sam what he needed. You won’t drag another person down like that._ He repeats this mantra to himself until he almost starts to believe it.

 

Huffing a little from physical exertion, they finally make it to the top and take a little while to explore the base of the lighthouse. Standing over the southern side of the rock, Harry fixes his gaze on the ocean, and after a couple of minutes lets out a disbelieving yelp. “Louis! I see a whale!” he yells, frantically beckoning Louis to him with a flapping hand.

 

Louis walks over, and stops close to Harry in order to follow the line of his left pointer finger, which is directed out over the water. Sure enough, a minute or so later, Louis sees the telltale flukes rise from the ocean and come crashing down, white foam breaking out as the tail disappears under the dark blue waves.

 

Harry lets out a sigh of awe and they stand there silently, watching for further signs of the migrating mammals. The ocean is calm for a few minutes, long enough to convince Louis that the creatures have travelled out of sight underwater. He’s about to walk away when Harry gasps and a humongous, ridged creature breaks out of the water at the furthest point of their eyes’ reach. It stays suspended in the air for a split second, twisting slightly with its fin held adjacent to its majestic body. It’s gone almost as instantly as it appeared, and Louis realises with a start that somewhere between seeing the whale and it disappearing, Harry has gripped Louis’ forearm with his big hand. Louis looks down at the long fingers encircling his tattooed limb, drawing Harry’s attention to what must have been a reflexive response for him.

 

The grip loosens and Harry’s hand quickly drops to his side. “Sorry,” he murmurs, his voice raspy and low.

 

Louis gives a weak laugh. “Not to worry,” he assures the other boy. A surge of confidence zips through his veins. Louis leans closer to whisper in Harry’s ear, his nose grazing Harry’s soft cheek.  “Promise I won’t tell Liam.”

 

Harry’s breath catches and Louis pulls away from his cheek. Harry’s head tilts back a bit, exposing his neck. His forehead wrinkles. “Lou,” he begins, “what you saw last night, when I was in the hallway, erm, outside Liam’s room, I--”

 

Louis’ eyes fall on Harry’s neck and trail down his shirt. _Cool it, Tommo, you’re in too deep_. “It’s okay, Harry. You don’t need to explain yourself to me,” Louis interrupts. He fixes his jaw and shrugs, turning his gaze over the water. When he speaks again, his voice is cooler. “Besides, Zayn filled me in.”

 

It’s a lie, just a little white one. After all, Zayn _had_ practically filled him in with his facial expression the night before. Harry doesn’t need to know that the situation wasn’t actually discussed.

 

The baffled look doesn’t leave Harry’s face, but he clears his throat and nods his head. “Right, yes. Okay then.”

 

Louis spots a coin-operated telescope nearby and ambles over to it, Harry following after the briefest moment of hesitation. He busies himself adjusting the apparatus so that it’s fixed on the spot where the whales appeared earlier. Harry stands quietly next to him, his hands shoved in the tight back pockets of his shorts, rocking back on his heels. Louis scans the water. He’s hoping for another whale, a pod of dolphins, a pirate ship. Anything to break the palpable tension between them.

 

Just as Louis is preparing to fake a sighting of the Loch Ness Monster, Harry’s voice cuts through his thoughts. “What on earth…” Harry places a hand on Louis’ shoulder, pushing his body around 90 degrees.

 

His eye still pressed to the finderscope, Louis catches an eyeful of--“Is that someone’s bare arse?” He leaps away from the telescope as though it’s burned him. A loud hoot of laughter comes bursting from Harry’s mouth. He’s doubled over, shoulders shaking in mirth. Louis shakes his head in faux exasperation.

 

Seeking context, Louis glances back over at the site of the offending visual. He sees a small group of men, sans clothing, proudly standing in a line with arms and legs spread wide facing the horizon. Another man, clearly one of their number judging by his hysterical giggles, is holding a smartphone and quickly snapping pictures from behind them.

 

Louis folds his arms across his chest and lets out a low whistle of appreciation. “I’m sure this place is beautiful at sunset, but it can hardly compare to a full moon. Wouldn’t you agree, Styles?” He turns to see Harry’s reaction. A quick giggle leaves Louis’ mouth when he finds Harry still recovering from his laughter.

 

Harry snorts violently. His next words come in short bursts. “I thought... we were supposed to be... on the lookout for humpback whales... not rumps on males!” He promptly breaks into a fresh fit of giggles.

 

Louis stands watching Harry as he fights to compose himself. “Christ, it wasn’t that funny, Harry!” Louis’ voice is still full of amusement and he’s grinning, and when Harry finally straightens up and his breathing returns to normal Louis receives a blinding smile in return. Harry’s dimples are out in full force and they take Louis’ breath away. _I want to make you laugh more often_.

 

Some time later, having thoroughly explored the lighthouse and its surroundings, they begin their descent down the road, back into the centre of town. The conversation is easy as Harry politely enquires about Louis’ family, his architecture and his friendship with Zayn.

 

Louis is relieved that Harry avoids the inevitable follow-up questions about why he’s come on the tour, particularly after the vague response Louis had given him on their first day on the bus. He very deliberately doesn’t enquire about Harry’s own reasons for being on the trip, although technically he already knows--Zayn had collected that particular piece of information earlier in the trip. Louis’ a bit curious to hear Harry, Niall and Ed perform together, but doesn’t want to reveal that he’s been investigating Harry.

 

Instead, he directs the conversation towards safe topics; their mutual love of Manchester United, the weird Australian cuisine they want to try while in the country, their relationships with their sisters. They have a surprising amount in common, Louis realises, although their differences are still highly evident.

 

Harry lives a quiet life as a junior book editor, practising his yoga and drinking smoothies. He briefly expounds the benefits of mindfulness and meditation, and as Louis watches the happy, animated boy talk he thinks Harry might actually be onto something. Harry tells him about his passion for cooking, and Louis bashfully admits his lack of skill in that particular area.

 

Harry laughs at him. “What do you mean you can’t cook? Everyone can cook,” he teases, giving Louis’ arm a playful shove.

 

Louis raises an eyebrow, looking thoroughly unimpressed. “Harold, if I had a dollar for every time someone told me that, then tried my cooking and promptly took it back, I’d have at least enough money to buy us both a decent brunch right now.” _Harold. Now you’re giving him nicknames._

 

Harry’s grin doesn’t falter. “Speaking of, I’m famished,” he says, a little hesitantly. His hands rest on his stomach for a moment, and Louis’ eyes follow. Harry’s white t-shirt clings to the flat expanse, the dark outlines of his tattoos just visible through the light material.

 

Louis looks away quickly, his own stomach rumbling. All the walking and fresh air has relieved him of the worst symptoms of his hangover and he’s ready for a meal. “I could do brunch.”

 

Harry leads them into a small brick cafe, the words _BAY LEAF_ jutting out in iron lettering along the top of the facade. They continue their amiable but carefully restrained conversation over pancakes (Louis’) and bircher muesli (Harry’s, naturally) and are paying at the counter when Niall, Ed, Zayn and Andy stroll past the big glass windows of the shopfront. Liam is conspicuously missing from the gang of boys. Louis finds himself a bit disappointed, wondering what Liam would think if he’d seen Louis and Harry together.

 

“Zayn, hey!” Louis calls, jogging to catch up with the group as he and Harry exit the cafe.

 

His friend glances back when he hears the familiar voice, and, if Louis’ not mistaken, a curious expression passes over his inexcusably good-looking face. “Louis. Harry,” Zayn responds, acknowledging them each in turn.

 

That catches Niall and Ed’s attention too, and they stop in their tracks, pivoting to face the approaching pair. Andy is preoccupied with a group of female backpackers who are asking for directions, giving exaggerated arm gestures that Louis suspects are an attempt to display his rippling biceps.

 

“You were up early, Haz!” Niall exclaims, a trace of disgust in his voice. “Not sure how, what with us beating you back to the room last night and all.”

 

Louis sees a brief look of discomfort flit across Zayn’s features, and gets a little jolt of empathy when his own stomach roils at the thought of Harry’s nighttime ventures.

 

“Thought I’d do some yoga on the beach,” Harry replies cheerily. “Good way to clear one’s mind after a long night.” Niall snickers and Ed shoots a suggestive glance in Harry’s direction, but he’s already looking to Zayn. “Sorry we bailed on you at the bar last night, mate. We’ll have to make it up to you next time.”

 

There’s a hint of tension in Zayn’s tone as he agrees. His teeth are slightly clenched, although Louis doubts it’s visible to anyone who doesn’t know Zayn as well as he does.

 

“Where were you lads headed when we so rudely interrupted you?” Louis asks, brightly, fully intent on changing the topic before either he or Zayn combust from the awkwardness.

 

“Uhhh… the bus stop,” Ed begins.

 

Harry’s mouth forms an ‘O’ and Louis sees realisation dawn in his eyes. “That wouldn’t happen to be the _Nimbin_ bus stop, now, would it boys?” Harry asks, smirking.

 

Andy comes up behind Niall and nods enthusiastically. “The very same. You lads going to join us?”

 

Louis is momentarily lost, but when Harry rejects the offer, exhorting the other boys to enjoy a brownie on his behalf, he gains comprehension.

 

Though a part of Louis implores him to prolong his solo time with Harry, all the talk about Liam has him feeling strange and he decides it’s best to tag along with the others for reasons of self-preservation. The other boy seems content to wrap up their time together and Louis is not about to appear overeager. Besides, Harry’s probably keen to get back to Liam.

 

As they walk to the bus stop, Zayn slings an arm around Louis’ shoulders meaningfully, but says nothing, to Louis’ immense relief.  The last thing he needs is a conversation about the silly, curly-haired kid they accidentally ended up travelling with, if not for any other reason than the fact that there simply isn’t anything to talk about. _And never will be_.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoyed that! Let me know what you think in the comments or come see me on tumblr :)
> 
> See you guys for Chapter 5 this weekend!


	5. Five: The Sun Is Sinking Down

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here we go again!
> 
> Just a quick warning that this chapter contains mentions of recreational drug use. Having never used recreational drugs, I might sound like an absolute n00b and for that, I apologise. To anyone more familiar with Nimbin than I- I'm so sorry for my uneducated portrayal of it! haha.
> 
> As usual: [gettingaphdinlarry](http://gettingaphdinlarry.tumblr.com) is the best. 
> 
> Come say hi to me on tumblr: [spandeedie](http://spandeedie.tumblr.com)
> 
> Enjoy!

Harry’s long strides consume the pavement beneath him in easy gulps, and he reaches the end of the block by the time Louis and the others have disappeared around the corner. He flicks his hair forward, rummaging a hand through the front and sweeping it back in one smooth movement. Reaching a junction, Harry considers his options. If he turns left, it will take him down the main street of shops, right will return him to the beach and straight will deliver him to their accommodation.

 

He considers going to find Liam, who’s probably back at the hotel on his own. Instead, Harry turns right. When he reaches the beach, he strolls along in the opposite direction to the lighthouse and finds a comfy looking spot on the sand a few hundred metres from the crowds gathered on the main stretch. Harry unrolls his yoga mat again and drops down onto it. He stretches his limbs out and lets the warm rays caress his body, tugging his t-shirt over his head and draping it over his face, letting the heat soak his chest while keeping his face from getting sunburnt.

 

Naturally, his thoughts turn to Louis. Harry had felt like a character in a Nicholas Sparks novel this morning when he had shown up at Harry’s yoga spot asking for directions. They had enjoyed amiable conversation, shared an incredible experience when watching the whales, and there had been that heart-stopping moment when Harry had grabbed his arm, their skin connecting in the most wonderful, tingly way. _Talk about making progress_.

 

His bubble bursts a moment later when he replays the awkward conversation that followed.

 

Despite Louis’ earlier assertion, Harry can’t shake the feeling that Louis is still quite firmly under the impression that something is going on with him and Liam. At the lighthouse, Louis had been changing signals faster than a traffic light. Harry shivers as he recalls the warm huff of breath near his ear, the zap of electricity as Louis’ aquiline nose made contact with his cheek. Then all of a sudden the warmth dropped away and Louis was looking anywhere but at Harry, imposing a distance between them that sent Harry’s stomach into a free fall.

 

Harry had never been so grateful for an act of public indecency in his life.

 

He lets out a contemplative sigh. Harry has always been the type to fall too hard and too fast for people. He hasn’t had any problem remaining detached from one night stands, but once given the opportunity to get to know someone, he often has trouble extricating himself from the feelings that inevitably develop.

 

His longest relationships have lasted no more than six months, usually enough time for the other person to get bored by how easily Harry gives them what they want or need, or for them to conveniently realise they’re just not into him anymore.

 

He’s been told on multiple occasions that he’s naive in the way he sees only the best intentions in other people, which has often led to annoyed would-be boyfriends, confused as to why Harry hasn’t rejected the advances of interfering parties.

 

He can still vividly recall being left in the middle of a busy club in London, mouth opening and closing like a goldfish as he tried to comprehend why his date had walked out abruptly. The next morning he texted the boy, asking as much. He received a carefully-worded reply a few hours later.

 

_Harry, you’re fun and all, but that sleaze at the bar was all over you and all you did about it was tell him knock-knock jokes. In the future, maybe you should read the signs a little better so your date isn’t left feeling like their feelings don’t matter._

 

At the time, Harry felt a right twat and had sworn to himself that he would try to be more perceptive in such situations, but he knows it’s still a problem he hasn’t completely overcome.

 

His last breakup was over a year ago now **.** Xander had walked into his life as an aspiring author, his first novel making its way onto Harry’s desk to read and edit. The story was a gritty coming-of-age novel about a young boy growing up in Kurdistan during the Kurdish Rebellion. It painted a devastating picture of war’s collateral damage, the civilians whose lives were upended by the Al-Anfal campaign. Xander held nothing back in his writing, bringing Harry to tears as he read about the gas smelling like sweet apples that drew innocent villagers from their homes, only to paralyse and kill them. Harry shudders at the memory. The fictional account had seemed so three-dimensional. The novel had been emotionally taxing but left Harry with a deep admiration for the American ex-pat who had managed to so move him through his words.

 

At first, Harry arranged to meet with Xander under the guise of the editing process, but after a couple of weeks their coffee dates had evolved to real dates, then bedroom dates. It had been a good few months. At around the five-month mark, Harry had taken Xander to Holmes Chapel to meet his mum and sister.

 

Sitting round the family dining table, they devoured one of his mum’s excellent Sunday roasts, listening to Xander expound “the important role of historically accurate literature in educating the masses about world events in a way the media never seem to do”. Harry sat admiring his boyfriend and the intelligent observations he was making. When Xander had excused himself to take a phone call, Gemma had leaned across the table and taken her brother’s hand in her own.

 

“My dearest, darling little brother,” she had started, eyes wide but face soft in earnest affection. “I say this with only love and respect, but that guy is a bore and way too intense.” Having delivered her blow, she sat back, nose high with an air of superiority.

 

Though he was well aware of his sister’s propensity for brutal honesty, Harry had been taken aback. He looked questioningly at Anne, seeking a contrary evaluation, but his mother only grimaced, giving a small nod. “I’m sorry, love, but I’m inclined to agree with Gems.”

 

It was as though his mum and sister’s comments peeled scales from his eyes. Over the next week or so, Harry found himself less enamoured by the sexy way Xander moved his mouth. Instead, he grew conscious of the dry topics that came out of it. He tried a number of strategies to coax Xander’s fun, silly side out, but found that with alarming consistency, Xavier batted away Harry’s light-hearted chatter and jokes with more boring matter.

 

While on a date at the aquarium one Saturday afternoon, they’d been watching the languid movements of an octopus, Harry marvelling at the incredible purple hue of its tentacles. He slipped an arm around his boyfriend, rested his chin on Xander’s shoulder and whispered, “You octopi my thoughts.” Harry pressed a small, soft kiss to the skin below Xander’s ear.

 

Xander had sighed. “Harry, ‘octopi’ isn’t grammatically correct. It’s ‘octop _uses’_. Aren’t you a book editor?” The patronising words were accompanied by a pitying smile.

 

"Actually," Harry huffed, "it would be ‘octopodes’. The Greek word was bastardised and pluralised--incorrectly even by Latin standards--as if it were a Latin word. But ‘octopi’ has been around long enough to now be an accepted variant." He threw his hands up in the air, his nostrils flaring. "Especially in a pun!"

 

The outburst surprised Harry just as much as it did Xander. Any last whispers of hope Harry had for the relationship floated away. He spent the next week agonising over his decision to end the relationship, Niall and Ed quietly encouraging him. Harry remembers sitting with them both around his and Niall’s dining table, steaming cups of tea in front of them, as they talked through the situation.

 

“Harry, breaking up with someone for the right reasons is a kind thing to do.” Ed had placed two fingers on Harry’s forearm, his eyes exuding gentle encouragement. “It may not be an enjoyable thing to do, but it’s in the best interest of both parties.”

 

Harry sighed, sliding back in his chair so he could rest his chin on his forearms, which were folded on the table. “I just don’t know what to tell him to make sure it doesn’t hurt him. I don’t want us to part on bad terms.”

 

“Who cares if you hurt him? He didn’t laugh at your jokes,” Niall said with a serious tone and a shrug. “I hate to be cliche, but honesty is the best policy. You’re not compatible. That’s all there is to it. He must be feeling it too, in which case he won’t hold it against you. If anything, he’ll be relieved not to have to be the one to do it.” Niall leaned back, arms crossed at his chest.

 

They had sipped tea in silence for a few minutes before Harry promptly burst into tears.

 

In the end, Harry needn’t have worried. Days later, Xander dumped him unceremoniously, citing Harry’s inability to engage with him on a deep intellectual level as the reason. He’d told Harry he was too trusting, not willing to challenge the Western world and its many vices. Harry had done his best to remind himself that this was exactly what needed to happen, but his desire to be loved and accepted by everyone left him feeling a little bruised after the ordeal.

 

It hadn’t been his most emotionally engaging relationship, but Harry classed his time with Xander as his first adult relationship. It had been his first time dating a man, as opposed to a boy. It occurs to Harry that maybe that’s why Louis is so attractive to him--the fact that he is at once a man with a career and adult responsibilities, but also a boy who is still finding his feet, who can muck around and have a laugh with his mates and not take himself too seriously.

 

At the thought of Louis, Harry’s stomach launches into a series of somersaults and his heart leaps into his throat. It’s so intense, and kind of exhausting, feeling like this whenever Louis is around. He’s convinced that Louis is experiencing the same thing, though perhaps to a lesser extent. There had been something in Louis’ eyes when they had been at the lighthouse earlier that had suggested that maybe--just maybe--he felt something.

 

Harry sighs and squeezes his eyes shut tighter. The drama of the past 24 hours catches up with him, and within minutes, he’s asleep.

 

>>>I|I<<<

 

Louis grins when Niall produces a hacky-sack from his pocket as they stand waiting for the bus. They kick it between them lazily as they wait for the bus, the beans letting out jaunty crackles as the sack flies from foot to foot.

 

Something across the street catches Zayn’s eye, causing the hacky sack to fall, forgotten, to the ground at his feet. “Maybe we should invite _them_ to come with us. I’d love to see her make an Instagram post about the baked goods in Nimbin.” A smirk stretches across his face.

 

Louis swings his head around in time to see Taylor and Calvin mid-selfie. Their backs to the road, completely oblivious to the fact that they’re being watched from the other side. “Strange place to take a selfie, don’t you think?” Louis mumbles. His nose scrunches up and he distractedly scratches the back of his scalp.

 

The bus arrives then, and Talvin-- _Dammit, Harry_ \--are quickly forgotten as Louis takes in the eclectic mix of passengers climbing on the bus with them. The majority of them seem to be much like Louis and his peers, young backpackers looking curious as they make their way up the aisle. There’s also the expected amount of tie-dye hemp-wearing hippies with dreadlocks and an unwashed odour. Louis is surprised, though, by the group of five elderly men and women who board, giggling conspiratorially as they take their seats.

 

They drive to Nimbin to a soundtrack primarily made up of Wilco, Led Zeppelin and Hendrix, the marijuana residue seeping in through Louis’ skin and nostrils. As they file off the bus, Louis watches in awe as Zayn is immediately commandeered by a shady looking guy with a product to sell.

 

“Geez, they don’t waste their time around here,” he snickers to Andy, who throws him a grin and a thumbs up.

 

“All the more time we get to spend consuming the goods,” he replies with a wink, striding over to Zayn and his newly-purchased bag of spliffs.

 

The five boys set off down the street, eventually finding a park with a sprawling grassy area for them to laze around on as they smoke.

 

“I’m, like, 99 percent sure this is still illegal, regardless of where we’re doing it.” Ed laughs as he spreads out on his back. Zayn produces a lighter from his pocket and lights the first blunt, taking a pull from it before passing it around. Louis wants to keep his wits about him, so when Niall offers him the joint he accepts, but inhales quickly before passing it straight on to Andy.

 

As they work their way through the weed, the conversation flows easily.

 

“How good is this, boys?” Andy asks during a lull in their chatter. “We’re in Australia, getting high, with no responsibilities and no problems. Life is good.”

 

Something in the way Andy speaks sounds a little bittersweet, and it takes Louis by surprise. “Not keen to return to the real world, then?” he asks, a little hesitantly. Out of all the people on the tour, Talvin excluded, Louis has spent the least time talking to Andy. He starts to suspect there might be more depth to the lad than he initially gave him credit for.

 

Andy laughs. “Do you blame me? This is perfect!” He flings his arms out, gesturing to their admittedly beautiful surroundings. “What’s at home? Responsibilities and businesses to run and dreary old England.”

 

Niall groans in agreement. “He has a point. Give me this over a shift in the pub any day.” He rolls onto his stomach and rests his cheek on his folded forearms. “What business do you have to run, anyway? Aren’t you a bit young to be running a business?”

 

“Family business. Tax accountancy. This year off is my last hurrah before I have to settle down and follow in Dad’s footsteps,” Andy explains casually. He shrugs.

 

“Is that in London?” Louis asks.

 

“Birmingham.”

 

Silence falls as they pass the spliff around again.

 

“What about you boys,” Andy enquires. “Where are you all from?”

 

“London.” Ed, Niall, Zayn and Louis all speak in unison, which makes them giggle. They quickly establish that they live within minutes of each other. Louis tries to conceal his interest when he discovers that Niall and Harry share a flat just one neighbourhood over.

 

“Ed didn’t want to live with us,” Niall explains. “Don’t know why!” Ed coughs into his hand and blushes bright red, causing Niall to burst into a fresh round of giggles. Louis and Zayn look confused, and when the laughter stops, Niall continues, “Ed dates Harry’s sister, Gemma. Harry said, and I quote, ‘I’d rather live on dried squirrel droppings for the rest of my life than overhear the sound of my sister being brought to climax by my best friend’.”

 

They all break into laughter again. Louis imagines Harry with his arms folded and brow furrowed, stomping his foot as he lays down the law. _He’d be so cute when he’s mad_.

 

Zayn nudges Louis, causing Louis to wonder if his friend has developed psychic abilities. When he realises Zayn is simply trying to pass him the joint, Louis relaxes, the flush fading from his cheeks. Wanting to change the topic, he turns to Niall. “Making any progress with Jade yet, Neil?”

 

Niall breaks into a grin at the mention of Jade. “Just laying the groundwork. She seems interested, but I don’t want to scare her off, now, do I?” He winks at Louis. “Wouldn’t want to come on too strong, you know.” He pauses for a moment before looking Louis dead in the eye, a mischievous expression on his face. “Although, I’ve heard some people don’t mind that.”

 

“Harry tends to favour that approach, doesn’t he, Nialler?” Ed cuts in. “If one were to woo him, one would probably want to be rather explicit about it.”

 

 _Why are they looking at me like that? Surely Harry filled them in on last night_. “Someone better alert Liam, then,” Louis retorts. His voice squeaks on the last words, and he quickly clears his throat, grimacing.

 

Louis’ assertion is met with a series of puzzled faces, Ed and Niall are looking at him as though he just announced that the sky is, in fact, made of chocolate. Zayn swallows hard and lowers his head, suddenly becoming very interested in a blade of grass.

 

Andy appears to have checked out of the conversation, much to Louis’ relief, and is examining the palms of his hands. “Guys! Check this out! The lines in my hand make an ‘A’ for Andy!”

 

Louis just might kiss him.

 

>>>I|I<<<

 

Harry wakes some time later with a start. He places a hand on his chest, yanking it off when he feels a shot of pain. He hovers his palm over the spot and feels heat radiating off it--a sure sign that he’s already fallen victim to the Australian sun. Cursing the hole in the ozone, he jumps up too quickly and has to steady himself against the instant dizziness. Harry pulls on his shirt and winces as the material brushes against his burnt skin. He stumbles across the sand as his stomach lodges a series of complaints.

 

He checks the time on his phone and finds a message from his mother, checking to make sure he hasn’t been attacked by any boxing kangaroos. He types out a short response.

 

_Don’t need to worry about me, Mum. Just yesterday I blocked a strong right jab from a big grey roo named Skippy. Showed him who’s boss ;) .xx_

 

It’s well and truly lunch time, so Harry makes his way back to the hotel, intent on finding Liam or the girls to see if they’ll grab a bite to eat with him. When he gets to the foyer, though, he sees Taylor sitting alone on one of the couches. She’s frowning and twisting a piece of hair round her middle finger as her other hand scrolls through something on her phone. When Harry approaches she looks up and a small look of hope crosses her pretty features. “Harry!”

 

“Hi Tay,” he replies, smiling, “Waiting for Calvin?”

 

Taylor’s face drops, and she rolls her eyes. “No. He’s upstairs showing Liam some of his newest mixes. I came down to use the free wifi,” she says curtly. She flicks her hair back over her shoulder and sighs.

 

Harry shifts awkwardly on his feet, and shrugs. “We could… We could go and get some lunch? If you’re hungry, that is,” he suggests.

 

The hopeful look reemerges. “Oh, fantastic, yes,” she hops out of her chair and brings her hands up to her chest, clapping softly three times. “I saw this _adorable_ little cafe before and there’s a stunning feature wall that would look _so_ good with this colour that I’m wearing…” She gestures to her forest green singlet and marches towards the door, her voice trailing behind her. “...and they put their smoothies in bottles that are to _die_ for…”

 

Harry follows her out, shaking his head but feeling a rush of affection for the slightly insane girl. _She knows who she is and she’s not sorry._ Maybe he can learn something from her.

 

A little while later, they’re seated on sanded-back apple crates, drinking out of vintage milk bottles and eating the cafe’s signature salad, which contains a slew of healthy ingredients: biodynamic wild rice, tempeh, kale and macadamia cheese sit in their ceramic bowls amidst an assortment of brightly-coloured vegetables. Taylor expectantly hands her phone to Harry the moment the food arrives, and he obligingly snaps a series of photos for her.

 

“Don’t you ever get sick of having to capture every moment of your life like this?” he asks gently, tilting his head to one side.

 

Taylor ponders this for a moment, weaving her manicured fingers together where her hands lie on the table. “As far as sources of income go, it’s a pretty small sacrifice to make,” she says, a more serious response than Harry had been expecting. “I guess it’s a little time consuming, but I really can’t complain.” She picks up a fork and starts moving food around in her bowl, eventually stabbing a piece of broccoli and moving it to her mouth carefully, so as not to let it mess up her bright red lipstick.

 

Harry nods, and plays with his own food for a minute. He mixes his kimchi through the rice and vegetables before taking a large bite. He’s still chewing when Taylor speaks again.

 

“I want to do PR, actually.” She looks off into the distance. “I thought maybe if I keep this social media thing going, it would give me an edge in the industry, you know?”  She bites her bottom lip, and Harry is sure she’s being genuine.

 

“I think you’d be a great PR person,” he affirms, giving her an encouraging smile. “You have a good understanding of how to create an image.” He takes another mouthful of his salad, chewing thoughtfully.

 

Taylor beams at him. “You think so? Thanks, Harry!” She pauses for a moment. “Let’s get a selfie together!”

 

Harry snorts, his mouth still full. Coughing, he chokes the food down, grabbing his milk bottle and taking a big sip of smoothie. “I don’t really do selfies…” he explains, clearing his throat.

 

“Nonsense,” Taylor retorts. She gets up, slipping around the table to stand behind Harry. She holds her phone up, long arm stretching over his shoulder, her face close to his.

 

Harry presses his lips together, the strain in his eyes revealing his slight discomfort.

 

Taylor seems satisfied with the photo, though, murmuring a hum of approval as she reviews it. “Have you added me on Insta yet, Harry? I’ve just added you so I can tag you in the photo. It’s harry_styles, yes?” She sits back down, and Harry sees her swiping through various filters before uploading the picture with the caption “Lunch date with my travel buddy @harry_styles. #squadgoals”.

 

Harry sighs and makes a mental note to review it on Instagram later, if only to screenshot it and send it to his mum.

 

>>>I|I<<<

 

Later that evening, on Harry and Louis’ instructions, the entire tour group makes their way to the lookout on the cliff to watch the sun set over the Pacific Ocean. The sky is full of colour. Pink, orange and purple clouds streak across the horizon like fairy floss and make Louis’ breath catch in his chest. It’s possibly the most romantic place he’s ever stood, the most stunning sight he has beheld in his 26 years, and it makes him ache a bit for Sam. _Or maybe_ , Louis tells himself, _not for Sam so much as for what he once represented to you_. In this moment, it hurts not to have someone to hold close, someone whose ear he can whisper into, someone who’d whisper back _‘I love you too’_.

 

Against his will, Louis’ brain conjures up an image of a delicate ear, partly concealed by soft, brown curls. His mind’s eye skims down to the sculpted line of a defined jaw and flicks up to where it meets the subtly upturned chin, finally coming to rest on a pair of soft, pink lips.

 

Louis shivers, breaking out of the little daydream. A flush of heat runs up his neck to his cheeks. He quickly surveys the others to see if he’s been caught, and immediately meets Harry’s green-eyed stare. Louis knows he should look away. Every rational part of his brain is screaming for him to look away, but his heart and eyes form a temporary alliance, making escape impossible.

 

His heart thumps steadily in his ribcage, speeding up ever so slightly as the lips he’d been daydreaming about just moments ago spread into a smile. Harry’s cheeks hollow to create the dimples Louis has been desperately trying to ignore the past few days.

 

Louis blinks heavily and swallows thickly as Harry’s emerald eyes pierce through his constructed exterior, glimmering with a look of suspicion and curiosity. Louis knows he’s been caught and yet still there’s a couple of drawn-out seconds before he manages to tear his gaze away.

 

 _This is not how it’s supposed to go_. _You’re on the rebound_. Even as he admonishes himself, the only image Louis’ brain can summon is of Louis with his arms around the tall, curly-haired boy standing over to his left.  _Stop it_. This trip, once intended to be a romantic adventure, is meant for healing and becoming whole again. Louis doesn’t need Harry for that.

 

Harry seems to understand the inner conflict he’s engendered in Louis, and keeps his distance for the rest of the evening as they clamber back down the hill. But when he runs past Louis to catch up with Ed and Liam, his hand presses lightly into the small of Louis' back. The touch is so brief Louis can't tell if it was on purpose, and Harry looks straight ahead, his posture giving nothing away.

 

Hours later, Louis rolls onto his back in bed, trying to smother the burning imprint left by Harry's palm. Louis opens his eyes and stares into the darkness. _Damn you, Harry Styles._

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Come say hi to me on tumblr: [spandeedie](http://spandeedie.tumblr.com) or leave me a comment letting me know what you think! I love hearing from you!


	6. Six: Wait Until The Room Stops Spinning

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorrrrrrryyyyyy it's late! (15 minutes late) I remembered how to have a life that isn't fic writing! Also got a new board game and played it with some mates and it was FUN and maybe someone should write an AU where H and L play boardgames and they meet at a tournament. Maybe that will be my next fic? Haha
> 
> Ok so as per: [gettingaphdinlarry](http://gettingaphdinlarry.tumblr.com) is the greatest and, you guys, THANK YOU for giving her the credit she deserves on Tumblr this week because she seriously does not need to be doing the hours of work on this fic that she is. We skyped for the first time today and four hours later still had a billion things to talk about. So she's seriously going above and beyond and has had such a positive impact on this story. So go give her more love. 
> 
> Thank you to my big sis, [Bear](http://bearmustard.tumblr.com) for keeping me updated on all the REAL LIFE HL stuff I'm missing because I'm spending all my time on this fic. 
> 
> Sooooo I hope you like this chapter and if you're a fan of Dreamworld I've definitely taken some artistic liberties and for that I apologise half-heartedly. I gave their website so many hits writing this chapter that they've probably made a bucket of cash from me so I don't feel bad about it. 
> 
> Leave me comments please because they make me smile and give me the energy to keep going.
> 
> Oh and come say hi and tell me when you think a) the royal wedding and b) the birth of the Junglebook "baby" are going to happen: [Spandeedie](http://spandeedie.tumblr.com)

Louis loves theme parks.

 

He’s always considered himself a bit of an adrenaline junkie. He loves the way his stomach plummets to his feet when a rollercoaster lurches suddenly. Squeals happily when he’s flung to the sides of a Gravitron. Feels on top of the world when a Ferris Wheel cranks to a stop when he’s swinging at the top.

 

Tomorrow they’re off to Dreamworld, and Louis can’t wait. He’s sitting at dinner with the extended crew, and as he scans their faces, he decides they all look too weary. “Right, you lot,” he announces, “Tonight, we’re all going to bed straight after dinner. I will not have us exhausted and sluggish tomorrow. We need to be at the top of our game!”

 

His pep talk is mostly met with acquiescence, although Jade rolls her eyes and curls her upper lip. “I, for one, won’t be going on any rides,” she begins, and Louis watches as Niall’s jaw drops open. He quickly closes his mouth before Jade can see. “The only game I need to be on top of is my animal cuddling game. I’ve heard there’s baby tigers,” she continues.

 

“Oooh, baby animals sound good,” Harry says quietly, smiling at Jade. He looks back down at the table, avoiding eye contact with Louis. It’s probably fair enough. Twenty-four hours have passed since they stood watching the sunset at the lighthouse, and Louis has spent each hour steering clear of Harry and his lethal touches.

 

“I’ll be spending my day on a bench with a book, I think,” Zayn says drowsily. He’s cupping his chin the palm of his hand with his elbow propped on the table, clearly worn-out from today’s shopping spree on the Gold Coast.

 

It’s Louis’ turn to roll his eyes, and he does so with vigour and an accompanying scoff. Seeing this, Leigh-Anne bursts into laughter. “Don’t worry, Louis,” she says. “You can bet your bottom dollar I’ll be going on all the rides with you.” She reaches an arm across the table and pats his hand comfortingly.

 

“Me too!” Ed nods heartily.

 

“And I,” chimes Niall, “will be convincing you to go on each ride for a second time with me.” He takes a big gulp of the beer he’d insisted on having with his dinner, and when he sets his glass back down, he has foam on his upper lip. “I’ve never met a ride I couldn’t stomach twice.” He wipes his hand over his mouth, taking the froth with it.

 

Over the next hour, Niall, Ed, Leigh-Anne and Louis sit around the table, constructing a list of the rides on Ed’s phone to ensure they don’t miss a single one. When they head to bed, it’s still light out, but Louis falls asleep immediately.

 

>>>I|I<<<

 

The following morning Louis is settled into his favoured seat on the bus--back row, next to the window--resting his head on the panel of glass. It vibrates slightly, a residual effect of the engine’s exertion. The bus is filled with noisy chatter and spirits are high when they arrive at Dreamworld. Louis can see the infamous Tower of Terror stretching up into the sky from within the confines of the park.

 

They pass through the entry gates and split off into their unofficial groups, organised according to activity preference. Harry, Jade and Liam link arms and go in search of animals. Jesy, Perrie, Andy and Calvin are in their bathers, intent on finding the FlowRider. Louis notes with disdain that the first item on Taylor’s agenda is a selfie by the entry sign. She throws her fingers up next to her face in a peace sign and pouts, clicking away before skipping off to join her boyfriend. The day is scorching, so Niall makes the executive decision to go in search of a water ride. He beckons to Louis, Ed and Leigh-Anne to follow him towards the Thunder River Rapids. It’s too early for queues to have formed, and they pile into a little circular raft, exchanging grins as they start moving off down the rapids.

 

The raft moves quite slowly to begin with. Louis is lulled into a peaceful state by its gentle rocking motion. He looks around, admiring the native trees and plants running down one side of the ride, waving to the onlookers who are leaning over the wooden fence on the other side, waiting to see their friends and family float past. “Good choice, Niall,” Louis comments. “Nice easy start to the day, this.” He leans back into his seat, closing his eyes and loosening his posture.

 

“Don’t fall asleep, Tommo,” Ed warns, though he looks half asleep himself.

 

Niall snickers mischievously. “Or do, so we can push you overboard.” He dips his hand into the water and flings a palmful at Leigh-Anne, who squeals and punches him in the arm.

 

Louis ignores them. _This little trip down the waterway will contribute nicely to my tan._

 

The next thing he knows, the little boat is airborne. Louis’ breath catches in his throat, and a slightly hysterical giggle comes tumbling out of his mouth as their vessel spins and hops over a series of jumps. They land at the bottom of the run with a jolt, foamy water splashing in over their legs and feet, providing a brief reprieve from the sun’s warmth.

 

“Well, that was unexpected,” Leigh-Anne says, stunned.

They spend the next few minutes killing themselves with laughter as they hurtle down the remainder of the thunderous rapids. As they step off at the end, clothes drenched but grinning, Niall drags them back to the queue at the starting point.  They fly down the rapids twice more before agreeing it’s time to move on.

 

As the sound of sloshing water grows faint behind them, Louis looks approvingly at his companions. They’re only five days into their trip, but he feels like he’s known them forever--Niall and Ed especially.

 

His intentions for the trip have changed so greatly from when he first bought the tickets. Instead of being an important milestone in his relationship with Sam, it had become an opportunity to start fresh. _New friends, new life, new Louis_. He imagines himself as the Genie in _Aladdin_ , although it’s unfair to see Sam as a captor. Louis went into the relationship--and stayed--willingly but the relationship itself had a profound dampening effect on Louis’ personality.

 

It feels like his former self is clawing its way out of the woodwork. Launching into song on the way home from the trivia night, sassing Taylor on the bus--they were things Old Louis would have done. The pieces are slowly coming together, Louis feels such a rush of exhilaration that he reaches behind Niall and yanks his boxers up sharply.

 

“...and the dad was holding his kid over the bin while he--YEEOWCH!” Niall swings around, fist flying through the air until it connects with Louis’ left bicep. “Tomlinson, you bastard!”

 

Louis lets go, narrowly missing a follow-up jab from Niall as he nimbly ducks behind Leigh-Anne. “Save me!” he cries, grabbing her waist to keep her in front of him like a shield.

 

She laughs, prying Louis’ fingers off but grabbing onto his wrists. “Niall, I’ve got him. Quick!”

 

Ed’s watching the whole thing, shaking with silent laughter. “Give him...a wet...willy,” he sputters.

 

Niall sticks a finger in his mouth menacingly and comes charging at Louis. He jams his digit into Louis’ ear cavity, pulling out with a satisfying _pop_.

 

Louis breaks free of Leigh-Anne’s grip. “I trusted you, Leigh-Anne!” he tries to scowl but his cheeks are stretching back in a smile. “I’m coming for you Horan, I know where you live now, don’t forget.”

 

“Careful, lad,” Ed warns, squeezing Louis on the shoulder. “You don’t want Niall finding out where _you_ live or your fridge will suffer dire consequences.”

 

“Oi!” Niall protests, wiping his wet finger dry on his shorts. “Have you seen what Harry fills _our_ fridge with? Borrowing food from other people’s houses is a means of survival. An Irishman cannot live on wheatgrass shots and kale chips alone!”

 

Louis snorts thinking of Harry’s granola at brunch in Byron. _Speaking of Harry, maybe there’s a chance you’ll bump into Harry back home_. Louis banishes the thought instantly. It’s practically inevitable now, because Louis isn’t about to give up Niall and Ed that easily, and they’re kind of a package deal.

 

Louis sighs. Of all the curly-haired, dimple-cheeked, green-eyed boys he had to follow into the aeroplane toilet, he’d chosen one who is not only on the same trip as him, but who lives just around the corner and is best friends with people Louis really likes. _The level of dramatic irony is practically Shakespearean._

 

The thing is, Louis was new to London when he met Sam, so had thrown all of his eggs in Sam’s basket. Despite a few attempts to catch up with mates from Doncaster or university who’d also moved to London, Louis found that an increasing amount of his time was spent at intimate dinner parties with Sam’s close group of friends, or on the couch watching movies while eating Thai takeaway. As the younger one in the relationship, Louis felt the need to continuously prove to Sam that their five-year age gap was insignificant.

 

Louis realises with a sudden clarity that these attempts resulted in Louis losing track of who he is and what he wants to be doing as a 26-year-old man.

 

Two years after Louis  had arrived at the firm, Zayn moved nearby to begin work as a graphic designer. In the months after Zayn first relocated, Louis had done more partying, socialising and prank-pulling with his old friend than he had in the two years prior. Still, the habits he had formed with Sam quickly pulled him back to his assigned place in their relationship.  Louis managed to keep seeing Zayn but with less frequency, and he never really got to know Zayn’s new friends.

 

Louis glances to the boys on either side of him, Niall grinning and gesticulating wildly as he recounts the moment on the rapids where Ed nearly flew off, and Ed shaking his head at his friend, a tiny smile curving at the corners of his mouth. They’re happy, and carefree and living in the moment. They’re not thinking about children or marriage or mortgages. _What a relief._

 

Louis takes a deep breath, his sense of freedom expanding with his ribcage. “So, what’s next boys?” he enquires. “...And girl!” he adds, when Leigh-Anne shoots him an offended look.

 

Ed consults the list on his phone and points them in the direction of The Claw, a terrifying contraption with a giant arm that swings its victims to 30m above the ground, before plummeting and swinging the other direction, gathering speed all the while. Louis’ glad he’d chosen a small, plain breakfast of toast and tea. He supposes it will look reasonably dignified if it’s to come hurtling back up his oesophagus during or after the ride.

 

>>>I|I<<<

  


“He’s so wiry! His fur feels like steel wool!” Harry exclaims, his arms supporting the heavy weight of a koala. He grins as Liam stands in front of him, snapping pictures on Harry’s phone.

 

“Yeah, well just be careful he doesn’t give you chlamydia,” Liam warns, frowning. “That’s a real thing, you know?”

 

Harry chuckles, gazing down at the sleepy creature. “Never mind Daddy Payne over there Kevin,” he whispers to the koala. “I trust that you’ve only engaged in safe sex.”

 

Eventually, he surrenders the animal to Jade, who’s making grabby hands at him, cooing in delight. When they’ve handed Kevin back to his handlers they continue their pilgrimage. When they’d arrived at Dreamworld this morning, Jade insisted on seeing all of the animal exhibits first, and Harry and Liam had willingly followed.

 

As they walk towards Tiger Island, Harry quickly shoots a photo of himself and Kevin to his mum and Gemma, giggling to himself as he adds the caption “Having koala-ty time here at Dreamworld .xx”.

 

They pay an exorbitant amount of money to play with two adorable tiger cubs. Harry feels better about it when they each receive a printed photo, a couple of souvenir postcards and a Dreamworld visor. Liam offers to keep the items in his bag for Harry. Harry grins. “Thanks, mate. I’ll keep the visor,” he says, popping it on his head.

 

Harry doesn’t notice when he loses the visor while they battle zombies in the laser combat simulation. He’s too busy squealing and ducking behind concrete walls graffitied with apocalyptic messages. For all his army crawling and barrel rolls, he’s quickly eliminated from the arena. A short while later, Jade and Liam emerge, puffing and overheated, and collapse onto the bench Harry has claimed.

 

The Claw is in front of them, swinging its passengers to dizzying heights like a giant pendulum.

 

“I feel sick just looking at it,” Jade mutters. As the arm swoops down and back up the other side she flinches, covering her eyes.

 

“I quite like rides,” Harry says cheerfully. He leans back on the bench and folds his arms behind his head.

 

Liam looks at him, horrified. “Why did you let us drag you around to all the animals, then?” he shakes his head in disbelief. “We haven’t been on one ride today!”

 

Harry’s relaxed expression instantly tenses. “No, no, Liam. I promise, I wanted to see the animals! I like rides, but they’re not important to me.”

 

Liam stands abruptly. “Come on, then, let’s go find a ride.” He holds out a hand to Harry, who hesitates before grabbing it and allowing Liam to hoist him off the bench. Jade stands reluctantly. “I’ll come with, but I’m not about to sign myself up for the Tower of Terror…” her voice wavers and her posture tightens as she swings her backpack onto her shoulder.

 

In the end, she’s saved by Zayn. He’s reclining under a tree with his book, as promised, when he sees them approach. “Harry! Liam! Jade! Over ’ere,” he calls, waving one arm above his head.

 

They sit with him for a moment, flicking through Liam’s camera roll as they recount their adventures. Harry watches in delight as Liam’s cheeks flush a shade of pink as Zayn leans over his shoulder to see the pictures of Jade and Kevin. He has to keep himself from squealing when he sees Zayn’s eyes journey to Liam’s lips and linger for a minute. _Oh, there’s definitely something there_. Harry glances up at Jade and sees a cheeky smirk on her face. She catches his eye and winks subtly.

 

Liam’s face reddens continuously as Zayn’s face gets closer, until he looks like he’s about to burst. He jumps up, hitting Zayn’s chin with his shoulder in his haste. As Liam feels the contact, he spins around. Seeing Zayn lying on the grass, hand rubbing his jaw, his mouth drops open. “Oh my goodness, I am _so_ sorry! Are you okay? I’m so, so sorry. Here, let me see it!” Liam crouches, reaching for Zayn’s hand, tugging it away. “It’s gone red! I’m so sorry, Zayn!”

 

Zayn lets out a small laugh and bats Liam away with his free hand. “Get off, Li, I’m fine. Not made of glass.” He sits up, giving Liam a soft look.

 

It seems to comfort Liam a little bit, but when he turns to Harry, Harry can see Liam still looks mortified. “Liam, Zayn’s fine,” he reassures him. Harry turns to Zayn. “If it’s okay with you, Zee, Liam and I were about to go find a ride anyway.”  Liam shoots Harry a grateful look.

 

Zayn nods, “Of course!” He looks at Jade and tilts his head. “You gonna stay with me, babe? Plenty of space for you under the tree.”

 

Jade grins, relieved. “If you don’t mind the company?” She bites her lip. “I don’t want to interrupt your reading.”

 

“’Course,” Zayn affirms casually.

 

Liam is silent as he and Harry wave and move off to find a ride. As soon as they’re out of earshot, the dam breaks open.

 

“Harry-oh-my-goodness-how-many-times-am-I-going-to-humiliate-myself-in-front-of-him?” Liam takes a deep, shuddering breath. “I’m _such_ a twat.”

 

Harry slings a comforting arm around Liam’s shoulders. “In case you were too busy freaking out to notice, Liam, the reason you hit him was because he had his face so close to yours.”

 

Liam stops, mouth agape. “Wait, what are you suggesting?”

 

“I’m suggesting...” Harry rakes his hand through his hair and laughs. “I’m suggesting that Zayn’s eyes were locked on your mouth and his face was so close to yours I’m positive you must have felt him breathing, and people don’t do that unless they’re totally into the other person.”

 

Silence.

 

“...Wow.” Liam’s eyes are wide. His palm flies up to cover his mouth. “Harry… do you think he likes me?”

 

Harry grins. “Look, Li, I don’t know for sure. I don’t really know Zayn that well. But from an objective perspective, I’d say he’s pretty interested.”

 

Liam nods slowly and says no more, his face furrowed in concentration. _Louis was staring at you like that_. Harry swats away the thought, but another one takes its place. _At the lighthouse. Louis wants you._ An invisible cord wraps itself around Harry’s lungs and pulls. A few deep breaths and it melts away, but the thought niggles at the back of his mind for the rest of the day.

 

They amble through the park until they find themselves facing a monstrosity hurtling a car full of passengers backwards into the sky and plunging them down again. _It looks_ , Harry thinks to himself, _like a giant’s equivalent of a high striker_ \--one of those fair contraptions that allowed you to test your strength.  A big sign reads ‘Tower of Terror’. _Perfect_.

 

“Why don’t we start with the maximum thrill factor, Li? You game?” Harry peers at his friend, who’s looking slightly pale.

 

Liam nods. He’s clearly the type who can never back away from a challenge, but his trembling hands and deep gasp of breath suggests this is one challenge he’d rather like to pass up. Harry grabs Liam’s hand and squeezes it, pulling him forward towards the queue. Only then does Harry notice four familiar heads standing in front of the ride. He drops Liam’s hand quickly and cups his hands to his mouth to shout.

 

>>>I|I<<<

  


“What are you waiting for, you bunch of pansies? Get in line!”

 

 _That sounds like--_ Louis turns on the spot to find the irresistible dimples in full force as Harry grins cheekily at them.

 

“I don’t see you rushing to join the queue, Curly,” Louis counters, crossing his arms tightly. Louis feels queasy about getting on the Tower of Terror, despite his love of rides, but he postures for Harry.

 

“Oh don’t you worry, Liam and I were just in the process of doing just that.” Harry’s grin turns smug and slightly self-righteous.

 

Liam. Louis had somehow managed not to notice the muscular boy with the smouldering expression. They’re standing close together, evidently having spent their time at Dreamworld together, which ignites an illicit rush of jealousy in Louis’ gut.

 

“Well then, don’t let us stop you,” Louis spits out, a little more harshly than intended. “Unless Liam here’s a bit too scared?” Louis’ words have a sinister edge. Harry’s brow furrows and he bites his bottom lip and Louis immediately regrets his jibe. Louis smooths his face into a neutral expression. “You know what,” he adds quickly, “we’ll join you!”

 

Harry’s shoulders loosen and his face relaxes a little. Louis decides that the satisfaction of antagonising Liam isn’t worth the cost of disappointing Harry. Not that Liam seems at all bothered by Louis’ attempts to get at him. He’s watching Louis with a curious expression, but there’s no anger or annoyance on his handsome face. If anything, Liam looks amused.

 

Harry quickly reaches out and pulls Leigh-Anne by the hand to get her to join the ever-growing queue. Ed and Niall follow close behind them leaving Liam and Louis to quickly catch up. They stand awkwardly next to each other as the line inches forward.

 

“Where’ve you guys been all day, anyway?” Louis asks, hesitantly. He shifts from foot to foot, one hand on his hip.

 

“We went to the Corroboree,” Liam begins, “Saw some crocs, cuddled a koala.”

 

Louis scoffs a little, but then Harry turns around, wild-eyed with excitement. All tension from their earlier interaction seems to have dissipated. “It was so fun, Lou! And then we went to Tiger Island! We held a tiger cub! It was so cute. Look, I got a photo!”

 

Harry spins Liam round on the spot and unzips the main pocket of his backpack. He thrusts it at Louis. In the picture, Harry is grinning, with his long, tattooed arms wrapped around a tiny tiger. Louis briefly wishes he’d spent the day with Harry. Or maybe he wishes he was the koala, he’s not quite sure.. He hums a note of approval while Harry shows the others.

 

The closer they get to the ride, the paler Liam gets. “You feeling alright, Payno?” Louis questions, a hint of sass returning to his voice. “You’re looking a little queasy--wouldn’t want those Fruit Loops you ate this morning to make a reappearance.”

 

Liam manages a smile, but looks no less terrified as they shuffle forward again.

 

Harry reaches back to squeeze one of Liam’s rippling biceps. “Don’t worry, Li-Li. I’ll look after you.” Harry shoots Liam a reassuring smile, then uses his grip to guide Liam forward, so they’re standing next to one another again.

 

Louis can’t be so sure that his own breakfast won’t be making a reappearance. _Li-Li?!_ _Gross_. He feels like telling them to get a room-- _Oh, wait. They’ve already done that_. A scowl crosses Louis’ face and they spend the rest of the wait in relative silence.

 

Finally, they’re being strapped into the car that will shuttle them up to the top of the tower before bringing them back down again at breakneck speed. Ed, Louis, and Niall are in the front seats, Harry, Liam, and Leigh-Anne just behind them.

 

The car starts moving, pulling them backwards up the steep slope. It’s fast, and Niall lets out a shriek of glee as they climb, staring at the ground below as it gets further away from them. Louis feels the familiar rush of adrenaline kick in, and involuntarily breaks into a grin. They pause at the top for a couple of pain-stakingly suspenseful seconds. Louis scans the park in front of him. The other patrons look like an army of ants, busily going about their day. He studies The Claw, which now looks like a harmless piece of playground equipment. Louis takes a steadying breath in at the same moment the car launches into free-fall.  

 

Louis’ stomach plummets and his hands fly out to grip the metal bar in front of him. It’s incredible. The concrete below gets closer horrifyingly quickly, and the ants moving around the park regain human characteristics. As they shuttle through the tunnel at the end of the ride, Louis makes sure to smile widely at the camera they’d been told would be waiting, raising his fists in two thumbs up. Beside him, Niall and Ed are pulling similarly excited poses.

 

It’s only once they’re slowing to a stop that Louis’ attention is drawn to the whimpering behind him. He can hear Harry talking in a reassuring tone, soft murmurs of comfort, and the smile drops off Louis’ face. As they clamber out of their seats and join the queue to review their photo, Louis keeps his body stiffly facing forward, refusing to glance back at the display of consolation occurring behind him.

 

They wait patiently as their fellow riders view and purchase photos, eventually reaching the bored-looking park staff member. He brings up the photo and waves a lazy hand towards the screen.

 

Louis sees himself first, grinning with his thumbs up, looking purely elated. He sees Niall to his right with his tongue out and Ed to his left with his hands squishing his cheeks together. Only then do his eyes travel back to the seats behind him. There, Liam looks like he is mid-scream, eyes wide with the corners of his mouth wide open and curved dramatically south. His right arm is stretched across his body to where both hands are tightly grasping those belonging to the person he’s sitting next to. _Harry_. The younger boy is captured gazing worriedly at Liam’s terrified face, concern pooling in the wide green eyes. His thumbs sit on the outside of Liam’s fingers, as if stroking them reassuringly. Louis doesn’t spare a glance for Leigh-Anne, who sits mid-cheer beside them. _Here comes that tea and toast_.  

 

A voice cuts through Louis’ daze. “How many copies d’you guys want?” The bored-looking park staff member is looking even more bored and slightly annoyed. There’s still quite a queue behind them.

 

“I’ll take one,” Niall affirms, handing over his cash.

 

“Me, too,” Harry and Leigh-Anne say in unison. Liam whispers something to Harry that sounds like a protest, but Harry just giggles and elbows him in the side.

 

“Are you getting a copy, mate?” Six sets of eyes are set on Louis as the guy behind the desk addresses him.

 

 _Yeah, and right after that I’ll buy Susan Boyle’s sex tape._ He flushes red. “No wa--uh, no. Thank you,” he stammers. “’M gonna go find a loo…” He strides off in the direction of the nearest bathroom block.

 

Louis splashes water on his face, slapping each cheek in turn in an effort to get himself to snap out of this unwarranted funk. He’s staring critically at his reflection when the door bangs open and in stumbles Harry. The curly-haired boy trips over a loose shoelace and flies into Louis, who goes staggering backwards.

 

“Oof! Oops!” Harry exclaims. Louis’ hands catch Harry’s shoulders, breaking his fall. Louis looks down at Harry’s hands, which are flat against his chest. Harry’s weight is warm against his body. Their noses are ridiculously close and Louis doesn’t try to right Harry.  

 

Louis’ eyes momentarily move to Harry’s lips, before he drags them up to meet the boy’s big, green eyes. “Hi,” Louis whispers huskily.

 

 _You need to get out of this. Stand him up. Back away._ Before he can help it, his eyes have fallen once more to those pillowy lips, now slightly parted.

 

Louis’ mind travels back to the last time they stood in a bathroom. Louis’ mouth meeting Harry’s time and time again before they’d rushed through the motions of getting one another off. Harry’s mouth trailing down Louis’ body in a stream of kisses. He doesn’t notice when Harry’s weight shifts away. Arousal tugs in Louis’ stomach. _Shit_ . _This is not happening_.

 

“Louis? You okay?” Harry asks. He rolls his shoulders back, tucks a loose curl behind his ear, and reaches out as if to touch Louis’ cheek.

 

Louis’ body lurches into action and he quickly takes two steps back. Away from the younger boy. Away from his lips. Away from Louis’ urge to bring his own to meet them. “Fine,” he squeaks, clearing his throat and cringing at his body’s inability to keep it together. He shrugs and looks away.

 

Louis cocks his hip and arches an eyebrow, swinging his eyes back around to meet Harry’s. He wills his voice to mask his nerves, aiming for a convincing air of nonchalance. “Just, you know, trying to keep you from killing yourself and those around you with those two left feet of yours.” Harry seems to buy it, but not before Louis catches yet another of his fleeting looks of disappointment. _Seriously, the kid’s a walking guilt-trip_.

 

“No, I meant, uh. I was worried that you might not have felt so good after the ride,” Harry replies slowly. “I thought I better follow you in here in case you needed a hand.”

 

 _Ugh._ _There it is again_. The stabbing sensation of guilt and regret as Louis is reminded of the utter goodness of the boy standing in front of him, and his own glaring iniquities.

 

“Thanks,” he says, as genuinely as he can. “I’m fine, just needed to take a piss.” He gestures towards the urinals, as though their presence will add to the authenticity of his words. Harry gives him a small smile, one that doesn’t bring out the dimples, Louis notes with dismay.

 

_Get out of here, Tomlinson._

 

“We should get back to the others!” Louis exclaims, far more enthusiastically than the situation calls for. He moves quickly past Harry to the door, flinging it open and stumbling out into the bright daylight.

 

Louis hates theme parks.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok so I'm sorry to do this to you guys, but next Wednesday I have to return to my life as a full-time employee of an intense job (teachers, ya with me?) and I haven't been able to get nearly enough ahead to keep updating bi-weekly. I'm really sorry! But the plus side is, what I AM updating is of a far higher quality than it would otherwise have been. 
> 
> It will either go back to weekly updates, or fortnightly updates. But I promise not to be an unfinished WIP!
> 
> Sorry sorry sorry! Next chapter will hopefully be out Saturday, although my lovely beta is dealing with snow storms and tattoo appointments and sharing amazing wonderful news that she's just received with her family, so please be patient if it's a little late.
> 
> xx


	7. Seven: These Nights When We Were Drinking, No, They Never Got Us Anywhere

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> They're baaaaaaack. What a week. I hope this helps. 
> 
> Love you, [gettingaphdinlarry](http://gettingaphdinlarry.tumblr.com) and [Bear](http://bearmustard.tumblr.com)

Harry follows Louis out of the bathroom, trying to make sense of their loaded interaction.  

 

The initial satisfaction with the progress he made with Louis on their lighthouse climb the other day has long since worn off. _One step forward, two steps back_. Their banter while queuing for the Tower of Terror was the first time Louis had spoken to Harry since they went their separate ways outside the cafe in Byron.

 

As they had driven to the Gold Coast, Louis sat up the back of the bus, as far from Harry as possible. He may as well have had a ‘Do Not Disturb’ sign on his chest, nestled against the window with his headphones in and his eyes closed. He’d given Harry nothing. Nada. And then…

 

Harry’s shoulders tingle where Louis’ hands had gripped him. Louis was deceptively strong for someone of such small stature. Subconsciously, Harry rubs his collarbone. “ _Oops”...“Hi”_. _We’re nothing if not eloquent._

 

A muffled shout from Niall brings Harry back to the present.

 

“Oi! Haz! We’re over here!” Niall’s mouth is bulging, and bits of hotdog come flying from his mouth. Harry would be disgusted if he hadn’t witnessed similar occurrences every day at home.

 

His mates are sitting on a park bench, Liam quietly sipping water from a bottle while Ed applies another layer of sunscreen. Louis is hovering nearby, clearly rattled by their encounter in the bathroom but trying not to show it. Harry sighs. Louis is one of those little metal brain puzzles. _Just as you think you’ve got him figured out, you hit a dead end_.

 

Harry’s not sure why he persists with Louis. Any sane person would read the signs, accept them and back away. But there’s a friction between them, an undeniable chemistry that Harry has never felt with anyone else. And Louis feels it too, if the heavy rise and fall of his chest as they stood clutching each other at the sink is anything to go by.

 

When Louis’ arms had shot out to catch him, Harry’s heart skipped faster than it had during the Tower of Terror free fall. His palms were clammy and his lips went numb. Harry felt a desperate urge to run his fingers over the fine brown hairs covering Louis’ upper lip and chin. But just as quickly as it started, it was over. Another item to add to the ever-growing list of ‘Potentially Wonderful But Actually Just Awkward’ moments he shared with Louis.

 

>>>I|I<<<

 

When they finally reach their accommodation that evening, they’re sunburnt and dehydrated. Harry lets himself into the blissfully air-conditioned room, Niall and Ed hot on his heels.

 

Kicking his shoes off, Harry flops face down on his bed. “I can’t do this anymore” he proclaims, although the full impact of his declaration is lost as his speech is muffled by the linen beneath him.

 

“I think you said, ‘Niall, I want to give you a massage,’” Niall replies cheekily, dropping his bag on the floor and wiggling his shoulders suggestively. “Go on, then! You have my full permission.”

 

Harry lifts his head to roll his eyes at his friend, letting his face hit the pillow again a moment later.

 

“Niall, leave the kid alone,” Ed interjects, watching the scene unfold with his hands on his hips and a look of fond amusement on his face. “He’s had a lot of excitement today and he’s probably coming down from a big sugar high. The last thing he wants is to rub his hands over your pasty Irish back.”

 

“Pffft! Like you can talk, Casper the Friendly Ghost! How many litres of sunscreen did you have to apply today, eh?” Niall retorts.

 

Harry snorts and forces himself to roll onto his back. “You two are ridiculous.”

 

“Ahhhh, you love us!” Niall crows, collapsing onto the bed heavily.

 

Niall smooths Harry's curls away from his forehead. Harry responds to the soothing touch by closing his eyes and purring.

 

“I think he likes that, Ni…” Ed sounds a little disturbed.

 

“Of course he does! My little Harry Cat loves having his head scratched, don’t you, Harry Cat?”

 

 _Yeah, this is getting a little ridiculous_. But Harry loves these two way too much, and after the day he’s had is more than happy to play along for a little while longer. He nuzzles his head into Niall’s palm and purrs again.

 

Soon, Ed joins in and the three of them fall asleep, a chorus of snores ringing out from their room as they unwind from the sensory overload of the theme park.

 

Two hours later, Harry wakes up with a dry mouth and furry teeth, and groans a little as he regains his bearings. Niall is on his side in foetal position, a tiny trail of drool falling from his mouth down his cheek. Ed is no longer on his left, but Harry can hear the shower running.

 

He lies back down for another ten minutes, until the bathroom door opens and Ed comes out. He’s wrapped from the waist down in a towel, but otherwise naked. Harry gives a snort that dissolves into helpless giggles as he takes in the stark white of the skin that had been covered by Ed’s singlet during the day, heavily contrasted by his friend’s deep pink arms and neck.

 

“Oi, you laughing at my tan, Harry?” Ed challenges, grinning.

 

Harry rolls his eyes and sighs playfully. “Get me the bottle of aloe vera from my bag,” he replies. “‘Aloe vera’ sounds like you’re saying hello to someone named Vera. ‘’Allo, Vera!’” He chuckles distractedly.

 

“Aloe vera? What motivated you to bring aloe vera?” Ed walks over to Harry’s suitcase, digging in it for a minute before he triumphantly pulls out the bright green bottle. “Such a Boy Scout.” He lowers his voice in an imitation of Harry’s. “‘Always be prepared.’”

 

“Oh shut it, you’ll be grateful when it’s soothing those lobstery limbs of yours.” In truth, Harry had seen it on a Buzzfeed list--“10 most important items to pack for your trip to Australia”--above tropical strength mosquito repellent and below 50+ SPF sunscreen. All three of the products are now sitting in his luggage.

 

He’s applying the sticky gel to the back of Ed’s neck when Niall finally wakes. “Oh… Am I interrupting something?” He wiggles his eyebrows at them, eyes still blurry with sleep.

 

Laughing, Ed whips his towel from around his hips and flings it at Niall, where it lands over his face.

 

“Ewwwww! Ed! Your genitals have made contact with the fabric of this bath towel and that is _not_ okay.” Niall jumps up from the bed and winds the towel into a whip, snapping it in the direction of Ed’s newly bare butt. Ed darts away, his hands protecting his junk, leaving Harry pouting. His hands are still covered in lotion but now he has nowhere to apply it. Launching forward, Harry grabs at Niall’s cheeks, coating them in aloe vera in despite his friend’s squeals of protest.

 

“Oh, it’s on!” Niall yells, lashing out at Harry with his towel whip.

 

Harry deftly avoids its sting, leaping onto the bed and quickly wiping the sticky green remains onto his legs before grabbing a pillow and holding it threateningly over his shoulder. Ed has retreated to a corner of the room, using the small desk as a fortress and rubbing one hand over his sore bottom cheek. Suddenly, there’s a quick knock at the door and the handle twists. The door flings open, leaving them all exposed as Zayn and Louis stick their heads in.

 

Harry watches with amusement as shock registers on their curious faces. Zayn’s mouth breaks into a grin and he lets out a cackle, while Louis falls into a fit of giggles, bringing one hand up to cover his mouth in a manner that Harry finds absolutely endearing.

 

“We heard banging and yelling and came to investigate,” Zayn explains, bashfully. “Didn’t mean to catch you in such compromising positions.”

 

All five of them burst into a new round of laughter. It’s broken when Niall launches himself at the two newcomers. “ _YYYYYAAAAAAHHHHHHHRRRRRGGGGHHHHH_ ,” he yells, brandishing his towel and transforming his face into a menacing grin.

 

Louis and Zayn look momentarily horrified and retreat immediately, slamming the door behind them. “See you boys at dinner, then!” Louis’ voice carries through the door as they hear the footsteps pounding down the corridor.

 

Harry quickly calls a truce, bending over at the waist with a hand perched on his hip as he breathes heavily.

 

Grinning, Niall throws Ed’s towel back to him and turns to face Harry. “Seeing Louis got you feeling out of breath, Haz?”

 

Harry jerks his head up, frowning. “No,” he snaps. Then, a moment later, he sighs. “Well, maybe.”

 

“I knew it!” Niall gives a small victory dance, pumping his fists over his head. It had been a bad idea to let him nap, Harry reflects. He should have remembered his ever-energetic friend is easier to control when he’s tired.

 

“Shurrup.” Harry is once again murmuring, having collapsed once again back onto the bed.

 

“Hey, Haz, it’s not a bad thing,” Ed says gently, pulling his pants over his hips. He sits down next to Harry, placing a soothing hand on the small of his back.

“Yes it is. It’s an awful thing,” Harry wails. “It’s an awful, unfair, stupid thing and I always do this. I always fall way too hard but this isn’t even like that and it’s just, like, this stupid chemistry thing that I haven’t ever felt before, and just being around him makes me want to grab him and hold him and kiss him, and I can’t even though we’ve technically already done all that stuff but he doesn’t want it to happen again and--”

 

 _Uh oh_.

 

“Hang on, you _what_?” Niall’s eyes are the size of dinner plates. “You’ve ‘technically already done that stuff’?”

 

Harry hesitates before giving a tiny nod.

 

“When? Where?” Ed asks, equally confused.

 

“...In the plane bathroom. Please don’t judge me!” The blush already evident on Harry’s cheeks grows a deeper shade of crimson.

 

“ _Excuse_ me?” Niall shrieks. “You joined the Mile High Club and you didn’t _tell_ us?” He jumps up and starts pacing across the room, hands sitting firmly on his hips.

 

“You were asleep when it happened and then when we got off the plane, we were all too tired and then I was going to tell you the next day, but then Louis was on the bus and he acted like he didn’t know me and it was way too awkward.” Harry’s well and truly rambling, though his speech is no faster than its usual snail’s pace.

 

Ed and Niall exchange a look, stunned into silence for a moment as they take in this information. “Right,” Ed starts, “Well, that does add to the complexity of the situation.”

 

Niall, on the other hand, delves straight into more important matters. “How was it? How on earth did you manage anything in that tiny space? Did anyone notice? Wouldn’t you have to be quite flexible to make that work? Was it like--” Niall stops and curls his finger and thumb of his left hand into a circle, thrusting his index finger from his right in and out of the hole suggestively. “Tell me _everything_.” Harry opens his mouth to reply, but Niall swiftly changes his mind. He shakes his head. “No, wait. Don’t tell me everything. Don’t tell me anything. I don’t want to know any sexual details about you or Louis. Yuck, yuck, yuck.”

 

Harry laughs despite himself. Niall’s ridiculous reaction to the situation is at least helping him feel more light-hearted about the whole thing.

 

Sighing, Harry relates the plane encounter to Ed and Niall--“ _Harry_! You can’t just meet someone and swallow his jizz an hour later!” Niall had cried, horrified, while Ed simply dropped his head into his hands--the way Louis had dismissively concluded their plane encounter, blanked Harry outside the bus the following morning and proceeded to act awkward and standoffish around him ever since. He tells them about the intel he collected from Liam about Louis’ ex cheating and breaking up with him, how Zayn had taken Louis in, then about the morning Harry and Louis spent together at the lighthouse, and finally about their moment in the bathrooms at Dreamworld today. _What a saga_.

 

When he gets to the end, Ed huffs out a breath, raising his eyebrows with wide eyes. “That _is_ a bit to take in, mate,” he says, sympathetically. “I thought there might have been something going on today, but put that down to awkwardness after the other night.”

 

“What do you mean, the other night?” Harry enquires, confused.

 

“When you came back late? To our room? Wasn’t that… Didn’t you…” Ed breaks off there, not wanting to explicitly articulate his assumptions.

 

“What? No! With Liam? No! Nothing happened. Liam likes Zayn and he was sad about it and I was…” Harry slaps a hand over his mouth, his eyes widening in horror. “Shit. You didn’t hear me say that.”

 

Harry closes his eyes and shrugs. The damage is done, so Harry launches back into storyteller mode, going back over the night in detail, including the bit where Louis bumped into him in the corridor. Niall and Ed let out matching sighs of realisation.

 

“Harry,” Niall starts, “do you think maybe Louis thought you and Liam had been… You know...”

 

“Well, yeah, but then the next day he told me it was fine and that Zayn had explained everything and he was cool with it, so I assume he knew about the whole overhearing the conversation thing and Liam feeling embarrassed and me going to comfort him...” Harry trails off. They all sit quietly, momentarily stumped.

 

“I think maybe Louis is just a bit confused,” Ed says eventually. Harry looks to his friend, willing him to continue. “Like, he got dumped by his scumbag boyfriend, who by all accounts he was with for a decent amount of time, yeah? Then he meets you on the plane, engages in what he thinks will be no-strings-attached sex, but all of a sudden he’s discovering he’ll be in close contact with you for the next 18 days.”

 

Harry murmurs in understanding, before Niall jumps in. “ _Then_ you have some pretty bizarre, confusing situations, and he’s relying on hearsay to help him understand. Also, if he does have feelings for you--which I’m pretty sure he does--he would have been hurt after the Liam incident before he discussed it with Zayn, so there might be a bit of that hurt lingering even though now he knows there’s nothing going on.”

 

 _It’s a lot to make sense of, but it does make sense_. Harry sends a silent prayer of gratitude up to the heavens for giving him such wise best friends. “I get it, I think,” he begins, “but I still don’t really know what to do from here?” He curls into foetal position, tucking his knees tightly to his chest.

 

Ed and Niall think it over for a few moments.

 

“I think,” Niall replies, “maybe just concentrate on giving him little signs of how you’re feeling and see how he responds to them?”

 

“And maybe don’t spend too much one-on-one time with Liam in the next couple of days,” Ed adds, sagely.

 

“You’re right,” Harry admits. “Little signs. I can do that.”

 

>>>I|I<<<

 

“...And then two seconds later, vomit is raining from the sky, and the woman next to us looks up in shock and _I’m not having you on_ , some of the kid’s chunder lands in her mouth!” Andy finishes his story with a flourish as the small crowd around him respond with a mixture of gagging noises and disgusted groans.

 

Louis feels his stomach churn at the visual image he now has in his head, so he’s grateful when Perrie quickly changes the topic. “So, now that we are all adequately put off our dinner, who wants to go out drinking tonight?” She looks at each of them in turn, eyebrows lifted in silent question.

 

Jade and Leigh-Anne wrinkle their noses at the thought of another night on the town. Liam holds his hands up, silently declining through his gesture. Louis feels a bit relieved, if he’s honest.

 

“Don’t mind the wimps over here, Lou. I’m up for it!” Jesy smiles at him encouragingly. “And I’m sure Andy’s keen?”

 

“As mustard!” _Does that guy’s enthusiasm ever wane?_

 

Louis turns to his best friend. “Zaynie?”

 

Zayn pulls a face that implies he really doesn’t want to, but to Louis’ relief he musters up a smile and nods his head. “Sure, why not?”

 

To everyone’s utter surprise, Taylor pipes up from the far end of their long table. “We’ll come too, won’t we, Cal?” She glances at Calvin, who’s seated next to her, and he nods and kisses her forehead.

 

Nick arrives back from the buffet table. “Did I hear someone say drinking? I’m in!” He sets his plate down next to Zayn and winks at Perrie.

 

The door to the dining room opens and Ed, Niall and Harry come strolling in. It’s really not okay, the effect that seeing Harry has on him. Louis feels his pulse quicken and his newly-settled stomach gives another lurch. Harry’s wearing black skinny jeans again, with a red-brown short-sleeved button-down shirt streaked with white and black zig-zags. The shirt is unbuttoned far enough to display a loose black tie and a sinful amount of milky white chest, tattoos standing out boldly. Harry’s face is starting to develop a golden glow to it, and the combination of it all makes Louis’ heart flip. Of all the people he had to be in this complex and awkward situation with, it had to be the modern reincarnation of Eros himself. _How very unfair._

 

Louis’ eyes turn to see how Liam is reacting to the arrival of his paramour, but finds him actively engaged in a discussion about boomerangs with Zayn. _It’s a shame, really. Harry deserves to be appreciated_ , Louis thinks. He banishes the thought and concentrates on the assortment of barbecued meats and salad on his plate.

 

The newcomers fill up their plates at the buffet and take the remaining seats at the table. Louis doesn’t think he’s imagining it when Ed, after reaching the table first, pauses to let Harry take the seat next to Louis, before sitting down on Harry’s other side. _How are you going to play this one out, Tommo?_ After their bathroom encounter, he’s hyper aware of the need to maintain personal space and avoid physical contact with Harry. In the split second he has to make up his mind, Louis’ trademark move seems to be the most fitting. He turns deliberately to Perrie, who’s seated on his left, and starts asking her a series of questions in a tone quiet enough to suggest their conversation is private and can’t be joined by anyone, like, say, the green-eyed distraction sitting one seat down from him.

 

>>>I|I<<<

 

Strobe lights beat in time with the music, sending Harry into a spin. He reaches down to grasp either side of his chair, holding on until he feels a little less overwhelmed by his environment. He’s still in two minds about coming clubbing.  He had agreed in order to have some fun with Niall and Ed, but now he’s wondering if he should have bowed out and called it an early night.

 

When Louis perches himself almost directly opposite Harry, Harry has his answer. He allows himself a moment to peek at Louis in the dark room.  Louis is dressed in a denim jacket with sheepskin lining with a white t-shirt underneath that gapes at the neck, giving Harry a direct view of the ‘It Is What It Is’ tattoo that reaches across Louis’ chest. His shaggy, cinnamon-coloured hair is styled messily and his beard has grown over the last three days.

 

Harry bites down on his lower lip and exhales as he pictures himself running his fingers through that hair, pressing his lips to Louis’ while looking into the steel-blue eyes. _This has got_ _to stop._

 

Harry sees movement out of the corner of his eye and turns to find Jesy seating herself to his left. She has a bemused expression on her face. “Uhhh, hey,” he mutters.

 

“Someone got your attention over there, Harry?” she asks, just loud enough that he can hear her. She flashes him an encouraging smile.

 

He slaps a hand over one side of his face, squeezing his eyes shut. “If I say ‘no’, would you believe me?”

 

“Not for a second,” she replies. She reaches up to grab his wrist, pulling his hand away. “Do you want to talk about it?”

 

The thing is, Harry kind of does. Talking to Niall and Ed had been cathartic, and he’s glad he did it, but there’s still more he needs to figure out. It’s been bubbling beneath the surface, driving him crazy. Jesy can clearly sense that, and Harry decides that she’s really quite qualified for the role of confidante. Besides, she’s engaged so obviously she knows how to make a relationship function.

 

“Yeah, I think so,” Harry murmurs, opening his eyes slowly.

 

“Go on, then, love.” She waits for him to begin, giving him a small rub in the middle of his back. It reminds him of how his mum used to soothe him as a child, and he feels his pulse slow.

 

Harry pauses, not willing to risk talking about Louis when he’s sitting so close. He looks across at Louis. Louis’ face is illuminated by the backlight of his phone, eyes scanning over a text. As Harry watches, he frowns, swiping his screen once in a definitive motion before clicking the lock button. Louis jumps up, shoving his phone into his back pocket, and pushes his chair back. He shimmies suggestively at Perrie. “I think it’s time to hit the d-floor,” he says, twirling flamboyantly before skipping away.

 

His excuse now invalid, Harry takes a deep breath and begins. “I feel so juvenile for saying this… Louis ignores me one moment and shows interest in me another, and it’s killing me because just as I decide I’m going to show him how I feel, he retreats and I feel like I can’t say anything.” He doesn’t give the whole back story, figuring Jesy is intuitive enough to figure out that there were feelings and a complicated situation and that’s all that matters. “He’s so guarded and every time he lets me in a little bit it’s like, it’s like a perfect sunny day and everything feels so good,” he continues, feeling a little cheesy. “And so then I get a spark of hope, you know? Like, maybe this isn’t just me? But then he retreats back into his shell and holds me at bay for however long he deems necessary. It’s confusing and infuriating ”

 

Jessy hums a note of consideration, her eyebrows furrowing slightly and her lips pursed. She’s spinning her engagement ring round on her finger, deep in thought. “Harry,” she begins, “have you ever been cheated on?”

 

 _Huh? How does she know about that?_ “How do you know about that?”

 

She waves her hand dismissively, eyes urging him to stay on track.

 

Harry thinks about her question for a moment. Back in secondary school he had been dating a girl in his class. He hadn’t wanted to kiss her, though, and was only a little bit shocked when she ended up snogging another boy at a party. It hadn’t really bothered him, mostly because he realised at around the same time that he just wasn’t into girls.

 

“No,” he replies, “although my Dad cheated on my Mum. That’s one of the reasons they got divorced.”

 

“I’m sorry you had to go through that,” Jesy says, genuine sympathy in her voice. “If you don’t mind me asking, do you remember how your mum felt at the time?”

 

Harry winces with the memory. His usually vibrant, outgoing mother had locked herself away for a time. She emerged from her bedroom occasionally to fulfill her motherly duties, but did everything with tearstained cheeks and an aura of devastation.

 

After the divorce had been finalised, she had begun to piece herself back together, Harry and Gemma doing everything they could to support her. Still, even as their life regained some semblance of normalcy, Anne seemed unable to bring herself to consider another romantic relationship.

 

Harry remembers her explaining to him that while she didn’t hate his father and would always love him, he had broken her trust and that was harder to fix than any feelings of frustration or anger or disagreement. Harry had tried his best to understand, and when his mum had finally started dating his stepfather many years later, he knew it was no small feat for her to place her trust in the new man.

 

“She… she felt betrayed, I guess. And she had trouble trusting other people. She still loved my Dad at the time, but couldn’t overcome those feelings of mistrust,” he summarises.

 

Jesy lets silence hang in the air for a moment. “Do you think maybe Louis is feeling the same, to some degree?”

 

 _You’re such an idiot, Harry_. “I’m sure he is, actually.” Harry admits, feeling quite silly. “That would explain why he reacted so badly to me and Liam,” he continues.

 

Jesy frowns. “You and Liam?”

 

“Bollocks! No! Not like that. I was in Liam’s room one night consoling him because--er, never mind. Just consoling him. And then Louis caught me sneaking out in the middle of the night and he was a bit funny about it.”

 

A small smile has begun to spread on Jesy’s face. “And then today, at the theme park?”

 

_Is there anything this girl doesn’t know?_

 

Jesy must see the confusion on Harry’s face. “People talk, Haz. And I’ve seen the photo.”

 

“The _what_?” Harry accidentally raises his voice too loud, drawing the attention of those around them, but quickly lowering it once more to a hushed tone. “I mean, the what?”

 

His enquiry is met with a confused look. “The photo. On the Tower of Terror?” When Harry shakes his head, not understanding, she continues. “You know, the one where Liam looks terrified and you’re doing the whole hand-holding, comforting thing and you look like you kind of have feelings for him?”

 

Harry tilts his head and closes his eyes, trying to summon the image. When he saw the photo after the ride, he only looked at the cheeky face of the boy sitting in front of him, blue eyes wide with delight, a cute little tongue poking out, and two thumbs raised happily. His eyes fly open. “Oh God. I was too busy looking at Louis and his stupid attractive face and-- _shit_.” He trails off, posture shifting slightly as he tips his head back to gaze at bright lights flashing above them. “What do I do, Jes?”

 

“This isn’t something you can do on your own, love,” she starts. “It’s not your responsibility to get Louis to a place where he can trust others again. That’s his prerogative, and the best you can do is show him that you care about him and are worthy of that trust.”

 

They fall silent for a moment, Harry nodding gently. “I really like him, Jesy.”

 

“I can tell, Harry.” She rubs his back again, and rests her chin on his shoulder. “Do you know what else?” she continues. “He’s just come out of a four year relationship. Like, a fortnight ago. So he probably had no intentions of getting himself right back into one, no matter how deserving any potential candidates might be. If he does have feelings for you, especially the type that you have for him, he’s probably overwhelmed and confused about whether or not he should proceed when his wounds are still so fresh. It might just be a matter of bad timing, you know?”

 

 _She’s right_ , Harry realises with a sinking feeling. This might go well beyond how Louis feels about Harry, and into ‘Things Harry is Powerless Over’ territory. He sighs, and Jesy drapes an arm around his shoulders, comfortingly. “Don’t give up, Haz. Just don’t take it personally if Louis takes a little bit longer to respond in the way that you’d like.”

 

Harry slips his own arm around Jesy’s back and they sit quietly for a little while, listening to the steady beat of electronic music.

 

>>>I|I<<<

 

Harry’s latest plan to avoid spending too much time with Liam is made easier by the fact that Liam isn’t at the club. Over the course of the night, Harry sticks mostly to Jesy, Ed and Niall. They’re safe, he figures. Louis can’t possibly confuse their relationship as anything more than friendship.

 

That changes when he leaves them momentarily to get another round of drinks. He’s leaning casually against the bar, waiting patiently as the bartender fixes his order, when he feels a hand softly grab his elbow. _Louis?_

 

“Having fun, Harold?” Nick’s smooth voice winds its way into Harry’s ears.

 

 _Oh_. “I was, until the DJ started his David Guetta marathon,” Harry groans, rolling his eyes. He’s overcompensating for his disappointment but hopes Nick won’t notice.

 

“Hoping I was someone else, were we?”

 

 _I never have been a good actor_. Harry sweeps his hand toward the trays of drinks being put together in front of them. “What? No. Grateful for the additional hands, actually.”

 

“It’s okay, Harry. I’ve been on enough of these things to instantly detect who’s banged who, or who _will_ be banging who by the time we get to Port Douglas,” Nick replies easily. “I can’t quite tell with you two though. Which is it?”

 

Harry’s face flushes a deep red. “Neither,” he says, indignantly.

 

Nick stretches an arm out and wraps it around Harry’s neck. He leans in until his nose is skimming Harry’s cheek and whispers in his ear. “Happy to help you out if you think he’s the jealous type.”

 

“Believe me, Louis Tomlinson could not care less about other guys hitting on me, Nick.” He hopes he’s lying but either way he’s not giving Nick the exclusive on this saga.  “But thank you for the offer,” he adds, not wanting to sound ungrateful. He slips out of Nick’s hold to pay the bartender, and picks up one of the trays.

 

“If you insist, petal,” Nick answers, casting a sidelong glance at Harry. He takes the other tray and sashays along beside him. “Let me know if you need a shoulder to cry on. I’m very good at taking pretty boys’ minds off things.” He winks at Harry and licks his lips in an exaggerated fashion.

 

Harry places the drinks in front of his mates, and is just about to take a seat again when he feels another hand on his elbow. _Seriously, Nick?_ He spins around, ready to give Nick his best discouraging look.

 

It’s Louis.

 

>>>I|I<<<

 

Louis grips Harry’s arm tightly as he winds through the dark room. His head is buzzing with the alcohol, causing him to take a wrong turn. They hit a dead end, but Louis simply turns on his heel and keeps going. When they make it to the exit, Louis lets go of Harry’s arm to push open the heavy door. The younger boy obediently follows him out into the fresh night air.

 

Without saying anything, Louis takes off down the street. He’s walking quickly, but Harry easily keeps up, one of his strides equal to almost two of Louis’. Louis doesn’t quite know where he’s going, but they’re quite a distance from the club now. _May as well just get this over with_.

 

Louis stops abruptly, and Harry pulls up next to him. His forehead is creased and when he runs his tongue over his bottom lip it communicates confusion, not seduction.

 

“I need… I need to talk to you,” Louis begins, a slight quiver in his voice. He takes a deep breath. “About this, us.” He gestures between them, and Harry nods patiently. “Look, Harry. This wasn’t meant to happen. Being here. Together. We were--we were meant to be a one hit wonder. Get in, get out, move on.” Louis cringes a little at his choice of words. He’s never been eloquent under pressure. He presses on. “When I saw you outside the bus, that morning, I freaked out. I was stupid, and I decided the best thing to do would be, you know, ignore your existence.”

 

Harry’s eyes are fixed on the ground beneath his feet as he scuffs his shoe against the footpath. He gives a murmur of understanding, briefly looking up to meet Louis’ gaze.

 

“I don’t blame you. I think that’s what I’m getting at. I don’t blame you for moving on. And I know I told you it was fine that day at the lighthouse, but it’s not really fine,” Louis takes pause to study Harry’s reaction.

 

The taller boy is looking baffled now, rubbing the back of his neck with narrowed eyes. “‘Moving on’? Lou, I…”

 

“Just wait. Please. Hear me out. I didn’t want to admit this to you, or to myself, I guess, but seeing you with Liam made me…” Louis sucks in air and raises his arms to grip the back of his head. “...It drove me crazy, okay? I’m sorry. I know that makes me a weird, jealous creep and I know I have no reason to be upset by it, but I was.”

 

Louis pauses as a group of girls approach them, tottering past in heels and dresses. They’re giggling and chatting loudly, oblivious to the tense conversation taking place in their path.

 

Harry takes a long step closer to Louis, and Louis’ hand jerks out, holding him back. He takes a step backward. “ _Wait_. I was preparing myself to come to terms with you and Liam being a thing Harry. I think I could have been alright with it.” He corrects himself. “ _Would_ have been alright with it.”

 

Staring at Louis’ hand on his chest, Harry takes a step back himself. “The girls, I was just mov--”

 

“But _fuck_ , Harry. What the fuck do you think you’re playing at, messing round with Nick like that, too?” Louis rakes his hands roughly through his hair Do you not think of anyone but yourself? Liam decides to sit one night out and you immediately find a replacement?” His voice is raised now.

 

Louis catches a glimpse of himself in the shop window they’re standing in front of. His eyes are wild, hair sticking in odd directions from where his hands disturbed it. It scares him a little, but he pushes the thought away and focuses on Harry again. “I thought I wanted you, Harry. It was inconvenient and unexpected, and not at all the point of this trip, but I wanted you. But if there’s one lesson I’ve learned recently, it’s that I have no time or space in my life for infidelity.”

 

 _There, you said it. It’s done_. He takes a step back, arms folded tightly across his chest, ready to let Harry say his piece. _Let him grovel a bit before you leave whatever this is in the past for good_.

 

But when Louis next meets Harry’s eyes they’re devoid of apology. His lips are flattened together, chin high in the air. Harry turns his back to Louis, but a moment later he speaks. “I’m not a cheater.” His voice is terse, words escaping through gritted teeth. As Harry pivots slowly back to face Louis his eyes are flashing with rage. He repeats himself. “I’m _not_.”

 

Louis is surprised at how angry Harry--the ray of sunshine who starts sing-alongs and wakes up early to do yoga--is, and he considers backing down. His own sense of betrayal makes him open his mouth again. “I guess that depends on what you think constitutes cheating then, doesn’t it,” he says, primly. “Let’s just hope you and Liam are on the same pa--”

 

“Me and _Liam_ are not, and have not ever been in any form of a romantic relationship. Not that it’s any of your business.” Harry takes a step in, his tall figure imposing casting a formidable shadow over Louis. His voice deepens. “Nor has there been anything between Nick and I that would ever constitute infidelity, regardless of whether I was in a relationship or not!”

 

 _Wait, what?_ Louis’ heart freezes, bile rising in his throat. _Shit._ He opens his mouth to speak but no words come out.

 

“I get that you’re in a bit of a messed up place right now, Louis. But I have been nothing but good and patient to you, and if this is how you’re going to treat me in return, then I’m done.” Harry raises his hands in surrender, but there’s nothing submissive about his body language. “I mean, you’re making these _ridiculous_ assumptions when I’m right here! I’m right in front of you, Louis, and all you had to do was ask!”

 

“Shit, Harry I didn’t… I’m sorry...” Louis hears the desperation in his own voice and wonders how the tables turned so quickly.  He presses his palms to his temples and squeezes his eyes shut, guilt and regret making his stomach clench.

 

Harry’s shoulders slump as he shoots Louis a bitter smile. “Cool. You’re sorry. I appreciate that. But it doesn’t mean I want to spend any more time with you discussing this.” With that, he spins on his heel and strides purposefully back down the road.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> C L I F F H A N G E R ! ! !
> 
> Sorry! :)
> 
> Swing by tumblr and say hi to me at [spandeedie](http://spandeedie.tumblr.com) or drop me a note in the comments section. We all need a little bit of fun and encouragement in our lives right now.


	8. Eight: After The Fire

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's been so long!
> 
> Thank you for your patience. I completely underestimated how hard it would be to keep writing while back at work, but I got there in the end! Here are some [pictures](http://spandeedie.tumblr.com/post/138916280176/we-looking-down-on-the-clouds-spandeedie) to go with the chapter.
> 
> Big thanks to [harryxlouisxlarry](http://harryxlouisxlarry.tumblr.com) for the incredibly in-depth and super helpful insight into the LM girls. You're the greatest reader a newbie fic writer could hope for!
> 
> As per usual I couldn't do this without my trusty sidekick [gettingaphdinlarry](http://gettingaphdinlarry.tumblr.com). 
> 
> Also [Bear](http://bearmustard.tumblr.com) had a birthday since I last posted so this one is dedicated to her. Chapter 8, 'cause you're 28. 
> 
> Enjoy!

If Louis was tipsy before, he’s well on his way to being plastered now. Harry is long gone, having taken off with Ed and Niall almost immediately after returning to the club, and Louis is perched on Zayn’s lap, head lolling sloppily on his friend’s shoulder. “I love you, Zee,” he whines, nuzzling his nose into Zayn’s neck.

 

“Love you too, Lou,” Zayn sighs, twisting his head to press a small kiss on Louis’ forehead.

 

“You do?” Louis’ head jerks up, his eyes wide with surprise. A second later, a frown crosses his face and he drops his head back onto Zayn. “Harry doesn’t. Harry hates me.” He takes a deep breath. Zayn’s sweat and cologne winds its way up his nostrils, soothing Louis’ anguish just a little.

 

“Lou, he doesn’t hate you. You both misunderstood each other, which can very easily be fixed by, you know, talking about it.”

 

“Yeah, like that worked so well last time,” Louis lets out a choked sob, which morphs into a hiccup. “Were you even listening? He said he doesn’t want to spend any more time talking about it.” He hiccups again, his body jerking into Zayn’s.

 

Zayn lets out a giggle. “Stop hiccupping, silly.” He puts a hand on either side of Louis’ head and holds it up so they’re looking into each other’s eyes. “Now, listen to me,” he pauses as Louis spasms again. “Harry was mad, because you accused him of cheating when he wasn’t. You’d be mad if someone did that to you too, right?”

 

Louis nods miserably, shoulders jerking sporadically.

 

Zayn continues. “So you just need to give him some time to cool down, then explain. Apologise again. Do some grovelling, whatever it takes,” he runs his thumb over Louis’ cheek gently. “He’s Harry. Even though we only just met him, you and I both know he’s a lover not a fighter. He’ll come around.” Zayn pulls Louis into a tight hug, and they stay there for a few minutes until Louis’ hiccups eventually subside.

 

When Louis wakes the next morning, more groggy than usual, he’s sure last night’s events were just a bad dream. That is, until he sees the back of his hand. There, in black permanent marker, the words “Talk to him” are scrawled in Zayn’s familiar script.

 

With a sigh, he rolls over and miraculously falls back to sleep.

  


>>>I|I<<<

 

Harry feels like shit. When he traipses onto the bus, the last one to board for the first time all trip, he’s hungover, exhausted and grumpy. It takes all of a minute for the rest of the group to notice.

 

The only seat left is the single by the door, which suits Harry just fine. He slumps into it, pulls the hood of his Green Bay Packers jumper over his head and rests his temple on the window. He can feel the stares of his tour-mates boring holes into him, so he shuts his eyes tightly and wills himself to sleep.

 

It’s no good. The moment Harry’s eyelids close, Louis’ face appears in his mind. The slightly-crazed look in his eyes, golden-brown hair flying in all directions, mouth set in a hard line. _All because he thought you were being unfaithful to Liam._  Harry’s not sure how this situation got so tangled, the web of miscommunication leaving them both so hurt and confused. _Louis thinks you’re capable of cheating._  The thought makes Harry’s gut roil in warning and he sits up suddenly, a hand shooting to his mouth to hold it closed.

 

A warm hand lands on his shoulder. “Haz, you okay?”

 

Ed’s voice brings Harry some relief, and he nods slowly. “Yeah, thanks mate,” he croaks, sinking back into his seat.

 

There had been a moment, when Louis was pulling Harry through the club, that a small part of Harry dared to hope Louis was planning on dragging him into a dark corner and kissing him.  Now, the memory leaves Harry wincing as a small pang of arousal hits his groin.

 

 _How is it, that after all of this, you still want him so badly?_ Harry hears the voices of his exes chanting in chorus. “You’re so naive, you only see the good…” He squints his eyes tightly trying to hush the chorus, but the seed is planted. _That’s not what it is. Louis is different. He was hurt and he was scared._

 

Harry needs to get out of his head, so he jams earbuds in his ears and tees up his Paul Simon playlist on his phone. It’s impossible to be broody while listening to _You Can Call Me Al_. He zones out, and drifts into a fitful nap.

 

It’s about two hours later when he wakes to Taylor’s shriek.

 

“Louis! You’ve been photo-bombing my pictures!” She’s holding her phone in her outstretched palm, mouth agape and eyebrows furrowed. “I can’t believe I didn’t notice!”

Harry tugs his earbuds out of his ears, the soothing tones of _Under African Skies_ replaced with the abrasive sounds of the rumbling engine and Taylor’s indignation.

 

Louis scoffs. “Taylor, I can assure you I most definitely have not.” Harry turns his head back over his shoulder in time to catch Louis roll his eyes.

 

“Yeah? Well why, then, are people insinuating in Instagram comments that I’m cheating on Calvin with, and I quote, ‘the blue-eyed dreamboat with amazing cheekbones’?”

 

Before he can help it, a snort flies out of Harry’s throat. He quickly coughs to cover it up, but Jade glances at him with a gleam in her eye, letting him know he’s been caught. He gives her a sheepish smile.

 

“Give me that,” Louis’ voice demands. In the reflection of the window, Harry sees Louis jump out of his seat, stretching across Niall to grab Taylor’s phone.  


Harry hears the leather seat exhale as Louis sits back down. There’s silence for a moment. Harry sneaks another brief glance over his shoulder at Louis and finds him studying Taylor’s phone. Louis’ thumb scrolls up and down on the screen a few times, bringing the phone up closer to his eyes. He sighs and hands the phone back. “Honestly, Taylor, if I was deliberately photo-bombing you, I’d at least try and get my best assets in there for your beloved subscribers.” Harry quickly swings his head back to face the road in front of them.

 

Taylor rolls her eyes. “Followers,” she corrects. “And according to them you already did.” She hits the lock button on the side of her phone, and leans back into Calvin’s side.

 

Every fibre of Harry’s body wants to pull out his phone and look at Taylor’s Instagram account. _Don’t do it_ , he warns himself. _It would be very counterproductive for someone trying desperately not to think about Louis and his beautiful eyes and enviable bone structure and long eyelashes and amazing arse and…_  

 

_Shit._

 

Harry accepts defeat and pulls out his phone, opening the app and searching for Taylor’s account. He scrolls back through the pictures, quickly locating the most recent offending picture. Taylor is standing in front of the Dreamworld sign, her fingers splayed in a peace sign. Louis is standing behind her, scowling at the back of her blonde head. Harry saw the same look on his face the night before, and the memory sends a fresh wave of nausea through his stomach.

 

The next photo is from the streets of Byron Bay. Taylor and Calvin’s faces are squished together looking adorably loved-up. Harry understands why Taylor might have missed Louis’ presence in the photos. She’s undeniably the main feature of each of them, her pretty face and bright red lips drawing the eye first and foremost. However, there in the background is the unmistakeable jutted hip and exasperated pout of Louis Tomlinson. Harry lets out a soft giggle, quickly scrolling down to see if there are any others.

 

His breath catches in his throat when he sees the third one. Louis is much closer to the camera in this shot, and it’s no wonder he attracted the attention of her fans. He looks pensive, completely unaware of anything beyond the thoughts in his head. His tanned skin glows in the morning light, creating a breathtaking contrast with his intensely blue eyes. Louis’ hair is wet--it must have been just after their conversation on the beach--and one strand is delicately arched over his forehead, falling just under his left eye. _He has no idea how stunning he is_. Without thinking, Harry screenshots the image, cursing silently when the shutter sound rings out loudly. He keeps his head down, cheeks burning as he quickly hits the lock button and shoves his phone in his hoodie pocket.

 

>>>I|I<<<

 

Louis hears the shutter sound and looks up to see Harry’s cheeks turn bright red. _Weird. Was that…?_ _Harry must have heard the conversation with Taylor--did he go to have a look at the pictures?_ As Louis banishes the thought, an idea replaces it. A subtle way of drawing Harry’s attention, with completely plausible deniability should it backfire.

 

A sudden, loud _pop_ knocks Louis out of his thoughts. The bus shudders slightly, the sudden movement  followed by the tell-tale drag of rubber on tar and the pungent scent of burning tyre. Their driver, Sue, pulls over to the side of the tree-lined road, and hops out. Louis and a dozen other curious faces peer out the window. Sue inspects each wheel in turn, her forehead creasing with annoyance as when she gets to the rear right tyre. She reaches up to the window and taps on the glass. “Everyone out!” she calls, “We’ve got a flat.” They all stand and shuffle out, leaving their air-conditioned cocoon for the stifling humidity of the Queensland summer.

 

Sue and Nick exchange words quietly, while the rest of them stand around, swatting flies and jostling for the shadiest spot to stand.

 

“Well, this is an adventure!” Perry chirps, hands on her hips as she sweeps her blonde hair up into a ponytail. “We can cross ‘Get Stranded in the Australian Wilderness’ off on our bucket lists.”

 

Something about this flicks a switch in Louis’ brain and he instantly looks around for Taylor. _Just as I thought_. She’s pulling out her phone, making her way around to the flat tyre. As she positions her camera, Louis shifts slightly to the right until he can see himself on her phone screen, then nonchalantly bends over to fiddle with his shoelaces. He hears the shutter sound go off a few times and holds his position until Taylor is satisfied with her photos and walks back to the side of the road. _Mission accomplished_.

 

Nick comes strolling toward the group, clearing his throat to get their attention. “Okay, guys, so we have a flat tyre but it’s an easy fix.” Liam lets out a loud sigh of relief and Louis has to stifle a giggle. _He’s probably worried we’re at risk of being eaten by drop bears out here_. “There’s a catch though,” Nick continues. “We can’t change the tyre while all the luggage is in the bus, because it would be too heavy for the jack. So we’re going to have to unload the bus and unhitch the trailer. With all hands on deck it shouldn’t take too long.” There’s a few murmured groans, but everyone nods in assent.

 

“Nick,” Harry calls. “I saw a petrol station about half a kilometre back. Would you like me to go get some bottles of water or drinks for people?” He peels off his hoodie, his muscular abs briefly appearing when his t-shirt gets caught. Louis quickly glances away.

 

“Trying to get out of the heavy lifting, are we Styles?” Nick teases, cocking an eyebrow.

 

“Well, no--um--it’s okay, I’ll stay…” Harry ducks his head, kicking the dirt with the toe of his sneaker.

 

Leigh-Anne steps in. “Don’t be silly, Nick. Harry, I think that’s a fantastic idea and I would love you to bring me back a Coke, please.” She rummages in her pocket, pulling out a crumpled $5 bill and handing it to Harry.

 

The rest of them follow suit, until Harry concedes that he better record the orders in his phone in order to remember them all. Louis can’t decide if Harry deliberately ignores him or simply forgets to ask if Louis would like anything, but suddenly the taller boy is setting off back down the road in the direction of the petrol station.

 

“There were a lot of drinks there, I better go with him and help him carry them back,” Louis says, attempting to sound casual and absolutely failing. He takes off after Harry in a jog before anyone can object.

 

He’s almost halfway to Harry when the other boy turns his head, as if checking to see who’s come after him. Louis’ heart sinks when Harry quickly turns back around and increases his pace.

 

“Harry! Wait!” Louis calls. He finally reaches Harry, grabbing his elbow and using it to propel himself forward until they’re walking side by side.

 

“What do you want, Lou?” Harry’s voice is gruff, deeper than normal with a tired edge to it. He stops walking and pulls his long hair back from his forehead, shoulders slumping in exasperation.

 

Louis hasn’t let go of Harry’s elbow yet, and he gives it a little squeeze. “I just want to talk to you, Haz. I need to apologise. The other night, I was stupid and jealous and--”

 

“And willing to accuse me of infidelity despite knowing next to nothing about me?” Harry’s face is twisted into a grimace when he looks over at Louis. He looks more hurt than angry, which only makes Louis feel worse.

 

“I’m sorry, Harry. It was stupid of me. I… I’ve just come out of a relationship and he--my ex--cheated on me and seeing you with Nick just, like, ignited something in me. I wasn’t thinking. It was wrong.” Louis pauses, glancing pleadingly up at Harry. He drops his hand so his fingers are looped around Harry’s wrist. “I’m so sorry.”

 

“This might come as news to you, Louis, but you can’t use your own problems as an excuse to treat other people like crap.” Harry takes a step back, yanking his arm free of Louis’ grasp and placing his hands firmly on his hips. “I’m sorry your ex is a jerk. I genuinely am. But that gives you no reason to come at me with your ridiculous assumptions and make me out to be the bad guy.” He takes a deep breath in, shaking his head. “I’ve been _nothing_ but good to you, Louis, even when you were ignoring my existence and pretending we didn’t have _fucking_ sex on a _fucking_ aeroplane. If that makes me stupid, or naive, so be it. I refuse to be a mean, cynical person just to protect myself from bitter, twisted arseholes like you.”

 

Louis isn’t sure whether he or Harry are more shocked by Harry’s words. Harry’s eyes are wide and glossy with the threat of tears. His mouth is pulled in a tight line, but Louis sees it waver minutely, as though Harry is trying desperately to stop his bottom lip from trembling. Louis’ own chest feels tight and his airway constricts as he chokes down a sob.

 

Louis drops his head, staring at the ground. “Harry,” he begins. The name gets caught and comes out barely louder than a whisper. He clears his throat and looks up in time to catch a single tear streak down Harry’s smooth cheek. “You’re right. The way I’ve acted--there’s no good excuse.” Louis reaches up and wipes the tear away with his thumb, fully expecting Harry to jerk his head away. He doesn’t. “Nothing I can say can change what I’ve done, so all I can do is ask you to forgive me and trust that I can be better.” Louis drops his arms to his sides, tucking his thumbs in to make fists. He can feel the wet smudge of Harry’s tear against his palm.

 

They stand still, facing one another. Harry’s eyes dart around, taking in every aspect of Louis’ face in silent assessment. When he next speaks, his voice is considerably quieter. “You’re not the only one who’s experienced cheating, Louis. My dad cheated on my mum, and seeing what it did to her… I’d never...” Harry trails off, fixing his eyes on his feet.

 

Louis feels winded. _You absolute jerk, Tomlinson_. _This is what you get for being a self-absorbed prick_. He takes a step in towards Harry. Out of the corner of his eye, he sees the petrol station in sight just ahead of them. “I am the worst kind of person, Harry. I had no idea, but like you said, that’s no excuse. I shouldn’t have spoken to you like that, shouldn’t have made those assumptions about you and certainly shouldn’t have done it out in the middle of a busy street.” He sucks in a deep breath. “And I shouldn’t have ignored you, and I should have found a chance to talk to you about the plane.” He reaches out to take Harry’s hand, holding it lightly. “I’m really, truly sorry. Please will you forgive me?”

 

Harry lets out a long sigh, eyes fluttering off the the side as he turns his head away from Louis. After a moment, he looks back, meeting Louis’ eyes with a softened gaze. “I get it, Louis. You weren’t to know.” He squeezes Louis’ hand, creating an explosion of butterflies in Louis’ gut. “I forgive you--”

 

Before he can process his actions, Louis reaches up and yanks Harry into a tight hug. He hears a faint cheer and glances back down the road to see Niall watching them with two arms thrown in the air.

 

“--but on the condition that Jerk Louis stays far, far away for the rest of the trip.”  Harry’s voice is muffled by Louis’ shoulder.

 

Louis releases him, grabbing Harry’s face in his hands and gazing intently into his eyes. Harry sniffs, blinking back the last remnants of the tears that threatened to fall. Louis smiles at him. “I’m gonna treat you so nice, you’re never gonna let me go.”

 

Harry grins. “ _Pretty Woman_. I approve.”

 

Louis lets go of Harry and they walk the final distance to the petrol station in comfortable silence.

 

“I think you’re great, Lou.” Harry murmurs out of the blue.

 

Louis is stunned. He checks Harry’s face, finding only sincerity. “Why on earth would you think that? I’ve been nothing but a prick to you this whole trip!”

 

Harry shakes his head, slowly, eyes flicking skyward. “You have your reasons. I get that. And you have not, anyway. We had fun up at the lighthouse together. Right?” He looks down at Louis for confirmation.

 

Louis nods. “Yeah, you’re right. We did. Brunch wasn’t too bad either, aside from your awful taste in breakfast foods.” He gives Harry a sly smile, which is instantly returned.

 

“Let’s do that again sometime.” Harry’s voice is hesitant.

 

 _He’s still wary of you. He thinks you’ll say no._ Louis ups his smile to a grin and throws an arm around Harry’s shoulders. “Yeah, ‘course. I’d love that.”

 

Harry’s dimples emerge and Louis feels as though he’s won a footie grand final. They amble up to the automatic doors of the servo, and Harry holds his phone out to Louis. “I might just duck off to the toilets, if that’s okay. Do you want to get started on the drinks?”

 

Louis nods, taking the phone and heading towards the fridge as Harry walks off in the direction of the toilets. “Harry, wait! What’s your passcode?”

 

Harry spins around, smiling. “Don’t have one!”

 

Louis shakes his head. _Typical, trusting Harry._ He swipes his thumb across the screen, unlocking the phone. Harry’s background is an arty black-and-white picture of a Scrabble board, his apps carefully arranged around the outside of the game. Louis double-clicks his home button to bring up Harry’s recently used apps, and the notes app springs up in front of him. He’s about to tap into it when he sees another app open next to it. Curious, Louis opens Instagram instead, and finds himself looking at one of the images Taylor had shown him before. The one from Crescent Head. _Bingo_. His suspicions affirmed, Louis happily switches back to the list and starts selecting drinks.

 

>>>I|I<<<

 

Harry can’t help but notice that Louis is strangely cheery when Harry gets back from the restroom. Louis’ arms are full of bottles of soft drink, water and iced coffee, Harry’s phone balanced precariously between his thumb and pointer finger as he studies the list carefully.

 

“Let me give you a hand with those,” Harry offers, reaching out to grab as many of the drinks as he can.

 

Louis gives him a grateful smile. “Thanks!”

 

They pay, and make their way back down the road to the bus. The mood is considerably lighter, the tension between them almost entirely dissipated, although Harry’s still not sure what their conversation means for their relationship going forward. There’s definitely still a nagging urge in the back of Harry’s mind to throw Louis to the dry, dusty ground and straddle him for all the passing trucks and tour vans to see, but if Louis intends for them to continue as friends, those feelings will have to be overcome.

 

Still, there was something in the intensity of Louis’ gaze, the way he’d gripped Harry’s arm so tightly, that suggests there’s hope for them yet. Harry will take what he can get.

 

He focuses on keeping the conversation light, chatting easily with Louis about American football--a topic Louis seems keen to learn about. The group are putting the last of the luggage back in the bus as they reach them, and flock to Harry and Louis as they start offloading the drinks. Soon, they’re ready to go again and they pile back on the bus, eager for the cool of the air-conditioning and a reprieve from the blistering sun.

 

“Good chat, H?” Niall’s voice whispers in Harry’s ear, startling him.

 

He turns to face his friend, giving him a disapproving look. “We sorted things out, yeah. But I know you know that from your less than subtle reaction to Louis hugging me.”

 

Niall’s face turns sheepish, but he offers no apology. He shrugs. “It makes me happy when my people are happy.”

 

The trip to Noosa is only another 15 minutes or so, which makes their flat tyre seem even more unfortunate. They offload their belongings at the resort and make their way straight down to the beach.

 

Harry is sure he’s never spent so much time at the beach in his life, and his bottles of sunscreen and aloe vera are being consumed rapidly, but he’s very much enjoying his tan and how clear his skin is from all the salt water. Stripping down to his white swimming shorts, Harry takes off down the beach, galloping through the tiny waves and diving under. The water is crystal clear, and he dares open his eyes as he swims. A school of tiny silver fish dart in front of him, then quickly change direction as two more bodies collapse into the water next to him.

 

Breaking back through the surface of the water, Harry finds Jesy and Perrie choking with giggles, cupping water in their hands and throwing it at one another. Too late, Harry realises he has presented them with a new target, and cops a mouthful of salty spray as he opens his mouth to protest. They throw each other around a bit, then collapse onto their backs, floating serenely as the sun makes neon orange appear on the inside of their eyelids.

 

_This is the life._

 

>>>I|I<<<

 

“Duck!” Zayn’s voice cries, pulling Louis out of his trance. Louis instinctively collapses his knees, but too late. The football hits his head with a resounding _thunk_ and stars flash before his eyes. He brings his hand up to cradle his smarting cheek. _That’ll teach you to stare at Harry like a creeper_.

 

Louis stumbles up from the sand, brushing his legs off and checking to see if Harry had witnessed him getting assaulted by a football. He’s still drifting on his back though, long limbs stretched out, his tummy poking up through the water as it holds him afloat. Louis wants so badly to run his fingers over the fern leaves tattooed enticingly on the boy’s hips.

 

Zayn jogs up to him, a smug grin on his face. “You right, mate? Bit distracted by the scenery?”

 

The deja vu is overwhelming. _How many times are you going to get caught checking Harry out at the beach?_ “More distracted by your woeful football skills,” he quips, throwing the ball down and deftly dribbling it past Zayn, taking off towards where Andy stands in front of Louis’ team’s goal.

 

They continue their game until they’re all feeling sweaty and parched, then go tearing into the water, launching a brutal splash attack on Harry, Jesy and Perrie.

 

A few shoulder wars later, Louis staggers back up onto the sand, collapsing on his towel and taking a big gulp from his water bottle. He winces at the warmth of the water as it hits the back of his throat, but he’s desperate for the hydration.

 

Lounging back, he replays the conversation with Harry in his head. They had somehow made it onto good terms for the first time this trip, and Louis gets a buzz of happiness at the thought. He hadn’t realised how much anxiety it had been causing him until the weight was no longer on his shoulders.

 

It’s a fleeting feeling though, as Louis realises he still doesn’t really know where they stand with one another. He was so relieved to have Harry accept his apology that he hadn’t fully considered the possible outcomes of his words.

 

 _Does Harry think he has a chance now? Are you leading him on? Do you want to get involved with him?_ Louis squeezes his eyes shut, trying to block out the questions, but failing dismally. He likes Harry as a person. He went crazy thinking Harry was with someone else. He’s very attracted to Harry. Those are the facts of the matter, but as for the rest of it, he just doesn’t know.

 

>>>I|I<<<

 

Hours later, they’re back on the beach after pizza in town. There’s been talk of skinny-dipping the whole trip, but it hasn’t happened yet, the girls insisting it takes place on a night where they haven’t all been drinking, lowering the risk of drowning. Now, the whole group is there and they’re all (mostly) sober, and Niall is attempting to rally them into a state of undress.

 

“Ladies and Gentleman, the inaugural Noosa Nudie Run will begin in two minutes,” he announces in a voice reminiscent of an American radio host. “Let’s get stripping!” Niall tugs his own t-shirt off and whips it round his head, throwing it dramatically to the ground.

 

Louis strips down to his boxer briefs, taking care not to look around should he make the girls feel uncomfortable. He’s psyching himself up to drop his jocks when Niall’s voice booms out again.

 

“3… 2… 1… _Get nude_!”

 

There’s a flurry of movement as undergarments are removed and thrown to the sand. They stampede down to the water, which is blessedly still quite warm. The moon is full, casting bright white light on the ocean’s surface and the air is still and thick. A chorus of shrieks sing out as each of Louis’ peers submerge their naked bodies. He catches a glimpse of Harry’s white butt before it disappears into the sea.

 

Louis throws himself under the water, giggling. _Sam would never do something like this._ He quickly shakes away the thought, determined not to think of his ex when he’s feeling so happy and free. _This is you, being you. This is what you came for_. Louis smiles slowly. _Progress_. A second later, Zayn’s hands are on the back of his head, dunking him under the water and all Louis needs to think about is how he’ll get revenge.

 

Once he has reduced Zayn to a sputtering, apologetic mess, Louis lets himself relax. He treads water calmly, marvelling at the fact that he’s suspended in this navy ink, warm and peaceful. Looking around him, he realises most people have been lulled into a similar state of relaxation.

 

They float, talking quietly about anything and nothing, until Calvin starts telling a story about his friend who got attacked by a shark, and they all start feeling a little nervous.

 

“I heard once that a shark can smell your urine from, like, 50 kilometres away,” Leigh-Anne pipes up.

 

“Uh, oh.” Jesy’s voice carries through the quiet night. They all fall silent.

 

“Fuck this, I’m not going home missing a limb!” Andy cries. He starts thrashing through the water, inciting fear and chaos as they all scramble to the shore.

 

Louis runs out screaming, mostly to be silly and only a little because he genuinely fears for his life. Using his hands for modesty, he dashes up the sand to his towel. Once he’s covered, he straightens up and meets Harry’s eyes in the dim moonlight. It’s dark, but he thinks he sees Harry raise an eyebrow and smile. A warmth spreads inside Louis’ stomach. It’s a little ironic that they’ve gotten each other off in a plane bathroom but haven’t seen each other naked before now.

 

Louis thinks of that cramped, dirty space. He closes his eyes, remembering the feeling of Harry’s breath on his neck as Louis’ hand disappeared into Harry’s pants and held him tight. He can hear the tiny moans that tumbled from Harry’s mouth before Louis clamped his other hand over those soft lips. The risk of being heard had sent a bolt of arousal through Louis’ body, not unlike the feeling coursing through his veins right now.

 

His eyes fly open when he feels a hand gently touch his waist. Harry’s right in front of him. The same lips Louis was just fantasising about are curled up in a little smirk, a curious glimmer in Harry’s eyes telling Louis he’s been caught.

 

Before he can do anything, Harry ducks in closer, pressing a quick, light kiss to the very edge of Louis’ mouth.

 

“You were remembering the plane, weren’t you?” Harry whispers. He nudges his nose gently against the side of Louis’ jaw. “It’s all I’ve been thinking about since you stripped off those clothes.”

  
With that, he’s gone, leaving Louis to wonder why on earth the only thing he wants right now is to be back in a filthy aeroplane toilet.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you liked it as much as I liked writing it. 
> 
> Come say hey on tumblr: [spandeedie](http://spandeedie.tumblr.com)
> 
> And lemme know what you think in the comments :)
> 
> Next chapter will be up in a week or two (max)!  
> xx


	9. Nine: It's Gonna be a Hard Day, So Hang On

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok, so let me preface this by saying I AM SO SORRY! It's been so long, and this chapter has been the bane of my existence. Hopefully it doesn't read like that!  
> Essentially, this chapter was when I realised that full-time work, part-time study, chronic anxiety and fic writing don't always mix too well. With this in mind, I may only get one more chapter out before the end of the school term (easter), but I'm hopeful that it will never take me 4 weeks to deliver a chapter again. Thank you for sticking by me. This fic is not going to be an eternal WIP. It will be finished. That's a promise. 
> 
> The biggest of thank you's to [gettingaphdinlarry](http://gettingaphdinlarry.tumblr.com) for being endlessly patient, then betaing this for me this weekend despite being on her death bed. Glad I picked someone supportive :)

“Help! A dingo’s eaten my baby!”

 

Harry hears the cries and swivels frantically in the direction of the voice. Andy runs towards him waving the severed arm and head of a plastic baby doll. Harry laughs, relieved.

 

Next to him, Louis shakes his head, rolling his eyes. “It’s not real. It. Is. Not. Real.” He steals the doll out of Andy’s hand and inspects it before tossing it aside onto the dirt track.  “Where’d you even get that?”

 

Andy shrugs. “I don’t know, just found it in a bush back there. Pretty creepy, really.”

 

“Are you boys finished? We’ve got a hike to do, if you don’t mind.” Nick pushes his sunglasses up on his head and pouts at them.

 

“Just let me…” Harry trails off as he wanders over to where Andy threw the baby and picks it up, holding it delicately with the tips of two fingers.

 

“Ew, Harry. Why are you bringing it with us?” Liam asks, wrinkling his nose.

 

Harry scoffs. “I’m not about to leave it here as litter, Liam, am I?” He frowns, one arm resting on a hip and the other extended, holding the doll away from his body.

 

Turning towards Louis, Harry finds the other boy watching him, adoration spread across his fine features. “Trust you to be the litter police, Styles.”

 

Harry pouts, tilting his head to the side. “Someone has to be if you’re going to be polluting the Australian bush with plastic babies, _Lewis_.” He smirks, satisfied, as Louis winces at the deliberate mispronunciation of his name.

 

There’s a blissful moment where neither of them move, facing each other with their eyes locked. Harry takes the opportunity to admire the scruffy beard rapidly spreading across Louis’ cheeks. He wants to reach out and nuzzle the fine red-brown hair, his fingers jerking in response before he quickly restrains himself.

 

Their trance is broken by a shriek.

 

“ _Eeeek_! _Ew_! _Get it off, get it off, get it off_!”

 

Harry is both surprised and amused when he cranes his neck and sees Zayn at the front of their group, hopping around, holding his raised foot with a panicked expression.

 

Nick approaches Zayn and peers at the foot. He steps back, shoulders shaking in silent laughter. “Zayn, my dear, it’s a leech, not a drop bear. Relax.”

 

Liam’s eyes widen and he rushes over to Zayn, dropping onto the ground next to where Zayn is hopping and rummaging through his day pack. “It’s okay, Zayn, I’ve got salt. We’ll get this off you!” His hand emerges, firmly grasping a zip-loc bag with small, white granules inside.

 

This only sets Nick off again, and he frantically gestures to Liam to stop as he tries to speak through his giggles. “No... Liam! No salt!”

 

Liam looks up at Nick, eyebrows furrowed and confusion in his gaze. “Huh? I read that if you get a leech you pour salt on it and--”

 

“--and then the leech regurgitates your blood back into you and you get an even worse infection?” Nick manages to articulate clearly, his laughter having subsided. He shakes his head. “A noble yet misinformed attempt at bush first-aid, dear Liam.” He squats down next to Liam, taking Zayn’s foot in his hand.

 

Harry watches as Nick gently slides his finger towards the black, slimy annelid. He uses his fingernail to firmly push one end of the leech away from Zayn’s tanned skin, then quickly flicks the other end, sending the creature flying onto the dirt path. A trickle of blood runs down Zayn’s ankle, drawing a deep crimson path away from the scene of the crime.

 

“Cool!” Niall exclaims, whipping his phone from his pocket and snapping a photo of the blood. “Most exciting thing to happen on the trip so far!” He meets Harry’s eyes and hesitates. “Well, maybe the second-most exciting…”

 

Harry rolls his eyes. He had faced the inquisition in his hotel room when they got back from their skinny dip last night, Ed and Niall jumping at the first possible opportunity to privately interrogate him after his and Louis’ public display of apology.

 

“That was quite the hug,” Niall had started, eyebrows raised and a smug smile spreading across his face. “Did you sneak in a quickie at the service station as well?”

 

Harry picked up the nearest object, a display folder of tourist information about Noosa, and threw it like a Frisbee in the general direction of Niall’s face. It missed and caught his blonde friend in the gut, causing him to double over in pain.

 

“ _Oof_! I deserved that.”

 

“Yes, you did,” Harry countered, although he’d moved straight over to Niall and rubbed his tummy soothingly. “You okay?”

 

Ed sighed loudly. “Harry, you can’t throw something at someone because they said something stupid then _comfort them_.”

 

“I can, and I will,” Harry pouted, guiding Niall to his bed and gently sitting down with him.

 

Niall looked up at Ed with a gleam in his eye. “Now, where were we?” He turned to face Harry. “Ahh, yes. The service station.”

 

Harry shook his head and mimed zipping his lips shut, tucking the invisible zip in the breast pocket of his t-shirt. “You’re not getting a word out of me, lads.”

 

“Is that right, young Harold?” Ed asked, inching closer to the bed.

 

“My lips are sealed.”

 

“In that case, we’ll have to apply some--” he adopted an atrociously exaggerated Russian accent, “ _pressure to zee preezner. Vee must know vot he knows._ ” Ed held his hands out in front of him, wiggling his fingers threateningly.

 

They pounced, tickling Harry vigorously until he rolled off the bed in a fit of giggles, hitting the floor with a loud _thump_ and a shriek of laughter.

 

Harry snorts at the memory, pulling a tissue out of his pocket and handing it to Zayn. “Here you go, clean yourself up.”

 

“Thanks, Harry.” Zayn smiles at him fondly, and it reminds Harry that Louis probably faced interrogation last night too.

 

“Shall we keep going then?” Nick’s voice asks loudly. He looks exasperated and Harry doesn’t blame him. Keeping the lot of them in line and on time can’t be an easy task.

 

Harry links arms with Jade, and they trod off down the dirt track with the plastic doll swinging from his left hand.

 

>>>I|I<<<

 

He doesn’t know how he manages it, but Louis falls into step with Calvin and Taylor, instantly becoming a gooseberry. Before he can accelerate or slow down to lose them, Taylor addresses him. “What do you think of the island so far, Louis?”

 

He hesitates. They arrived at Fraser Island this morning after a ridiculously early start from Noosa, and until now he’s been too woozy with sleep deprivation to properly consider their location. “’S alright, I guess. The dingoes are pretty cool.”

 

Louis had seen some of the dog-like wildlife as they entered the national park, their lithe bodies still as they stood guard over the land. With their perked-up ears and dark, soulful eyes, the creatures had looked barely different to a household pet, which had endeared them to Louis immediately, despite the stories of brutal attacks and baby-snatching the animals are linked to.

 

Taylor considers this for a moment. “Do you think you could keep a dingo as a pet?” She turns to Calvin, holding his elbow with her manicured fingers. “Babe, can we get a dingo? Please?”

 

Calvin rolls his eyes, and places a hand on her shoulder. “Tay, they’re wild animals. If we’re going to go through that process it’ll be for a pet monkey. It’ll communicate with us through hand signals and grunts!” He tucks his hands up into his armpits and starts hopping around, imitating a chimp.

 

Louis lets out a hard laugh at the impersonation. “You’re almost _too_ good at that impersonation, Calvin. Really affirms the whole evolution-from-apes thing.” He grins, shaking his head fondly.

 

Taylor, however, isn’t looking so fond. “See this is what I meant last night. You bulldoze my ideas and suggestions with your own. You don’t consider what _I_ might want.” She folds her arms tightly across her chest, her mouth forming a hard line.

 

Louis feels the atmosphere change around them, the air becoming thick with awkwardness. He quickly glances around him, looking for an escape, but everyone else is clearly engaged in other conversations.

 

“Babe, please, calm down. I didn’t mean to do that, and we don’t need to discuss this here and now, right Louis?”

 

A warm blush spreads across Louis’ cheeks when Calvin addresses him. _Don’t get involved. Stay neutral. You’re Switzerland._ “Uhh, I… Yeah, I mean--”

 

“I’m sure _Louis_ will be able to provide us with some nice, objective advice on the matter, don’t you think?” Taylor looks pointedly at Louis. Her arms drop from her chest to hang by her side. “Imagine your partner was asking you for a pet. Would you ignore them and suggest a different animal entirely?”

 

“I’m not exactly sure that’s an accurate summation of the conversation you two just had, Taylor. You were talking about dingoes and monkeys, not cats and dogs…” He trails off as he sees her scathing look.

 

The scenario takes him back to his apartment in London, the night when Sam had suggested they get a cat. Louis doesn’t mind cats, can tolerate them, but the fur makes his nose itch and he’s more of a dog person. He’d said this to Sam, suggesting they find a nice, small dog at a local rescue shelter instead. Before he knew it, they were yelling across the open plan living space, Sam positioned defensively behind the kitchen counter as he accused Louis of never considering his needs and desires. Louis argued back that they only ever spent time with Sam’s friends and that was _very much_ an example of him considering Sam’s needs. The argument had spiralled from there, covering a multitude of topics they seemed to revisit with every argument.

 

The memory makes him shudder, and a feeling of dread pools in his stomach. _This is what relationships are, remember?_ Louis won’t deny that the thought of being something more with Harry has crossed his mind; has been playing on a regular loop in his head since their conversation yesterday. It had started seeming possible, maybe even desirable. _But this isn’t what I want._

 

He edges away from Calvin and Taylor as they get lost in their tiff, breathing a sigh of relief when they don’t acknowledge his departure. He stops short at the sight of Harry up ahead of him. He’s bending over to delicately pick native flowers from a tree, tucking a stem of magenta buds behind one ear while fondling the leaves with his free hand. The ugly doll is lying forgotten in the dirt beside him.

 

Louis can’t imagine fighting with Harry, which is ridiculous because in the past 48 hours they’ve technically fought twice. He can’t envision Harry allowing them to bicker over trivial things. When he tries, all he sees is a soothing hand coming up to stroke his face, and hears a deep, slow voice telling him “it doesn’t matter, Lou…”

 

Louis catches up to where Harry is standing, which causes the other boy to look up. Harry grins when he sees Louis, his eyes crinkling at the corners. “Hey, Lou.”

 

“Hey.” At the sight of Harry’s genuine happiness, Louis feels his stomach unravel as the anxiety from a moment before dissipates. “That’s a nice hair piece you have there.”

 

Harry chuckles. “Thanks. It smells lovely. Here, have a sniff!” He picks another of the flowers from a branch and holds it under Louis’ nose.

 

Louis takes a deep breath through his nose. “Smells like Vaporub.”

 

“It’s eucalyptus, silly. They’re everywhere.” Harry tilts his head to the side, smiling fondly. “Did you know that koalas survive on a diet of only eucalyptus leaves, but they’re poisonous to most other animals? Imagine that. A food that only you could eat!”

 

Louis wrinkles his nose, pouting. “That’s all well and good, Harold, but after a while you’d get sick of it. I need variety in my diet.” He reaches out and plucks the flower from behind Harry’s ear, placing it behind his own.

 

Harry’s eyes roam over Louis’ face for a moment. “Yeah, yeah. I bet you’re the type person who has one standard pizza order that you go to every time.”

 

Louis flushes, diverting his eyes to the ground. “Well, yes, actually. But that’s only because it’s a winning formula. Double cheese, ham, pepperoni, jalapenos.”

 

“I cannot think of a worse, less nutritious combination of toppings,” Harry counters, looking disgusted.

 

“Don’t knock it til you try it!” Their eyes meet again, and Louis sees a mischievous glint in Harry’s green irises. He watches as Harry quickly glances around, searching for the rest of the group who are now a good hundred metres ahead of them. He looks back at Louis, planting a hand firmly on each of Louis’ shoulders. It sends a buzz of anticipation through Louis’ veins. “Harry, what are you doing?”

 

>>>I|I<<<

 

Harry pushes Louis backwards and to the side until they’re crashing through the bush. He sees a wide, smooth tree ahead and veers them toward it. He pins Louis to its trunk, hands gripping Louis so tightly he can’t move.

 

Harry studies Louis’ face carefully, finding a constellation of dark freckles on the lower part of Louis’ jaw. The discovery making his groin twinge. He lifts his right hand from Louis’ shoulder and gently cups Louis’ jaw, stroking the spots with his thumb while committing them to memory.

 

He breaks his gaze, dragging his eyes back up to Louis’ to check how Louis is responding to Harry’s touch. What he finds there seems to be a mix of terror and desire. Harry can empathise. Harry raises his eyebrows meaningfully, and Louis gives a tiny nod in return.

 

Harry brings his head down agonisingly slowly, wanting nothing more than to grab Louis’ head in his hands and press their lips together feverishly. Instead, he gently places a kiss on the freckles before stroking them again. He feels a shiver run through Louis’ body, and when he moves his other hand down to grip Louis’ wrist, he feels goosebumps on the usually smooth skin.

 

Harry leans in again and kisses along Louis’ jawline until he gets to his ear. Gently, Harry takes Louis’ earlobe between his teeth, bringing his lips to meet the tender skin. He lets go. “Louis,” he whispers.

 

Louis’ reply comes out as more of a squeak than a verbal response. “Yeah?”

 

“May I kiss you?”

 

Louis intakes a breath sharply. “Yes.”

 

Harry squeezes his eyes shut. _This is happening. It’s finally happening_. A clap of thunder rolls out across the sky and his eyes fly open in time to see a blinding bolt of lightning flash across the dark grey sky. It had been blue only minutes ago. Thick, heavy raindrops start at once, falling faster with every second, until they’re standing in a torrential downpour of tropical rain. The air is sticky and humid, and Harry marvels at the fact that he can be standing in the rain and still be so hot.

 

They look at one another again, and burst into synchronised giggles. Harry pushes his hips up against Louis’ and grinds a little. Louis moans in response.

 

“Harry? Is that you? Louis?” Liam’s concerned voice breaks through the trees. “Guys, we have to get back to the bus before the storm gets worse!”

 

Harry breathes out a long, exasperated sigh and stares Louis dead in the eyes. “We’re not done here.” He places a palm on Louis’ torso, walking his fingers up the firm chest until he’s touching Louis’ lips. “I’ll be picking this up _right_ where we left off.”

 

He takes Louis by the hand and leads him back to the track, where the group is standing around, confused.

 

“There you are!” Nick exclaims as they come into view. “Okay everyone, we can go now that the lovebirds have returned.” He gestures them forward, falling into step with Harry. “What on earth were you thinking, Styles? Suddenly overwhelmed by the need to snog against a gum tree?”

 

Well aware that silence will annoy Nick more than any sassy answer, Harry simply smirks, and says nothing.

  


>>>I|I<<<

 

It’s a few hours later, and they’re standing along the beach in a line. The storm was a short one, and by the time the bus pulled in at the beach carpark, the sun was back out and the sky was bright blue, as if to say “what storm?”

 

Harry looks down at the pole in his hand, desperately trying to remember if he needs to reel towards him or away from him to bring the line in. From the other end, firm tugs send jolts through the clear plastic string, and the tip of Harry’s rod is bending over tightly. He looks to his right and finds Perrie managing her rod like a professional. “Perrie! Help!”

 

She looks over and grins. “Having a bit of trouble, Harry? Turn it back toward you to reel it in. Go quickly, but not too quickly. You don’t want the line to snap!” She turns her eyes back to the ocean, one hand holding her rod to feel for tension.

 

Harry does as she says, calmly spinning the reel anti-clockwise. It feels like an age before the end of his line bursts from the water, a stubbornly flapping fish attached to the end. It’s a big one, maybe half a metre in length, though Harry can’t tell while it’s moving so quickly.

 

Andy lets out a yelp from beside him. “Shit! Harry, what you got there? Here, I’ll help!” He leaps over to Harry’s side and grabs the rod with both hands, anchoring it, as Harry continues to bring the fish in.

 

Finally Harry has the fish thrashing on the sand, but he’s overcome with a sudden feeling of sadness. He leaves the rod and starts stalking off, hearing Andy call after him. “Harry? What are you doing? You’ve got a 50 cm flathead here! That’s fantastic. Harry!”

 

“I don’t want to be a fish murderer,” he yells without turning around. He strides up the sand to a nearby picnic table. Jade is perched on top of the flat wooden surface, her nose in a book.

 

She looks up when Harry sits down next to her with a huff. “You okay, Harry?”

 

Harry nods, placing his elbows on his knees so he can rest his chin in his hands. “’M hungry, though.”

 

There’s a sly smile on Jade’s pretty face. “Well, it looks like you’ve solved that problem for yourself. You’re a regular Bear Grylls.” She hops off the table, tucking her book under her arm and pulling Harry’s arm to get him to follow. “Let’s go get this fish on the barbecue.”

 

“I am _not_ going to eat that fish. I cannot possibly--” Harry’s stomach rumbles audibly. He frowns down at his bellybutton, betrayed. “--eat that fish.”

 

>>>I|I<<<

 

“That fish was delicious.” Harry sighs, leaning back to pat his stomach contentedly. Between them, they’d managed to lure enough flathead onto their lines for a decent meal, fleshed out with supplies Nick had brought in the bus. Jade shoots him a smug look.

 

“Where are we heading tomorrow?” Liam asks. His eyes are drooping and he’s resting his chin on folded arms.

 

Nick looks up from where he’s been studying his clipboard. “Alumuna,” he replies. “It’s a cattle station. Give you a bit of a taste of the outback.”

 

“Why is the outback called the outback? Because it’s out back?” Taylor muses as she starts collecting plates and stacking them, ready to be washed back at the camp. Harry looks up at her gratefully as she takes his, flashing her a warm smile.

 

Andy snorts. “Probably. Australians aren’t all that creative when it comes to naming things are they? Ankle biters, long necks, soft drink, drop bears--” he ticks each phrase off on a finger. “--they basically just name things for their most obvious qualities.”

 

“Yeah, but drop bears aren’t real, so you can hardly count that, ya git,” Zayn counters.

 

Nick gasps loudly. “What do you mean ‘drop bears aren’t real’?” He thumps the clipboard down on the picnic table and puts his hands on his hips. “Are you an idiot? Do you want to get killed?”

 

Harry’s quite sure there’s no such thing as drop bears, but he decides to play along. _This could be fun_. “Zayn, I don’t know who told you they’re not real, but I wouldn’t be trusting them in the future.” He fashions his face into solemnity. “They’re one of the biggest causes of death by animal attack in Australia.”

 

Ed laughs. “Of course you’d know that, Harry. You probably have drop bear repellant stashed away with your aloe vera and your SPF50+ sunscreen.”

 

Zayn looks around the table, as if waiting for someone to crack. No one does, and his mouth drops open. “Wait. You’re telling the truth?”

 

Liam sighs and rolls his eyes. “No, Zayn, they’re not. They’re having you on.”

 

“Sorry, Liam, I missed the part where you’ve been running guided tours of Australia for the last five years. What company did you say you work for?” Sarcasm drips from Nick’s voice. _He’s either an impressive actor or I’m genuinely mistaken_.

 

“My cousin got attacked by a drop bear,” Leigh-Anne says innocently. “Ended up in hospital with 20 stitches in his head.” She drops her voice. “And _he_ was one of the lucky ones.”

 

Liam sits up, suddenly alert. He's looking significantly more awake as Leigh-Anne launches into an impressively detailed recount of her cousin's experience.

 

Harry leans forward a bit to try and see what Louis is up to. He’s been strangely quiet the last few minutes. He finds the other boy looking intently at his lap, face glowing with a blueish tinge from the backlight of his phone. Louis’ brow is furrowed, his two front teeth chewing absentmindedly on his bottom lip.

 

 _Who’s been texting him?_ Harry’s not sure if he wants to know out of jealousy or his strong need to protect Louis’ feelings, but either way he’d quite like to punch whoever it is making Louis frown so frequently.

 

Harry is still watching when, a moment later, Louis stands up abruptly, murmurs something in Zayn’s ear, then stalks away in the direction of the sand.

 

 _Weird_.

 

>>>I|I<<<

 

"Hey Lou, just checking you got my text the other night? You never replied. I get it. You probably hate me right now. I just need you to know I miss you. A lot, actually. I’m trying to watch Star Wars and I’m actually succeeding. I hope you're doing okay. S.”

 

It’s the personal joke in the penultimate sentence that unravels Louis’ month of hard work. He sees Sam and himself lying on a couch in their apartment, back in their brief honeymoon phase, with _Revenge of the Sith_ playing on the tv. Sam had been trying in vain to watch what he deemed to be “the best Star Wars film” (a scandalous proclamation, in Louis’ opinion) while Louis tried his best to distract him with strategically placed kisses. Eventually, Sam had given in, and “I’m trying to watch Star Wars” had been brought out anytime one was trying to distract the other with their mouth.

 

Needless to say, it hadn’t been said all that much as of late.

 

Louis sits down on the cold sand. It’s getting late now and he can hear the waves crashing in the distance, but can only just make out flecks of white foam through the darkness. He’d ignored the text from Sam the other night in the club, too preoccupied with the Liam debacle to be moved from his carefully constructed composure. This time, though, Sam’s aim was improved and his arrow landed firmly on target.

 

 _How dare he?_ Louis shakes his head in disbelief. _Who does he think he is? “I miss you”? Fuck_. He presses his palms to his forehead, taking a deep breath in to calm the rising anger.

 

It drives Louis crazy that Sam, with whom he fell into a relationship in no passionate way, is evoking such a passionate response in him, even after revelations of cheating and a somewhat mutual acceptance of their need to split ways. In fact, the issue may not be with Sam but with Louis. With the choices he allows himself to make when feelings of attraction set in. _Maybe this is something you do. Your special gift is impossible relationships._

 

The sudden recollection of yet another _Pretty Woman_ quote sends Louis back to when the notches of the tree trunk were pressing into his spine, Harry’s beautiful eyes searching his. When he’d asked _permission_ to kiss Louis, Louis was sure he’d collapse into an overwhelmed heap. Harry is so gentle, so delicate, and yet he sets every atom in Louis’ body alight with a simple look.

 

A demanding voice within Louis insists that Harry is a good choice. Harry makes Louis consider the future, a concept that has only terrified Louis in the past. _But how can you be thinking about your future when your past won’t leave you alone?_

 

Louis collapses back into the sand, gazing up at the sky and trying to find the Southern Cross. It’s useless. The stars swim in front of him as tears pool in his eyes, a string of bright, white smears. _How the hell did you get back here to the tears and the doubt?_ Slowly, Louis lets his eyelids drift shut.

 

Seconds, or maybe minutes, later, a body plonks down next to Louis. He’s terrified to open his eyes, knowing he’ll find Harry sitting there, so he feigns sleep. Before long, the low, deep voice reaches his ears. “You awake, Lou?”

 

Louis keeps his breathing steady, resisting the urge to peek through his eyelids to see the other boy’s face. It works, and Harry says nothing further for a few minutes. Eventually, Louis hears him get to his feet and brush sand off his legs.

 

“I really hope you’re asleep, Louis, and not just faking it.”

 

Louis freezes, missing a breath and hoping to God Harry won’t notice. There’s a definite hint of sadness and disappointment in Harry’s voice. Then, as the sound of footsteps crunching through sand signals Harry’s exit, he casts one last comment in Louis’ direction.

 

“If I’m hurting you, Lou, just say the word and I’ll leave this alone.” He pauses, and Louis squeezes his eyes closed even tighter, willing himself to stay still. “But if someone else is hurting you, I’ve got something to say about that.”

 

The words are like a dagger through Louis’ heart. He can hear the pain he is causing Harry in his voice, and wants so badly to turn and grab him, wrapping his arms around that tall, slender body and telling him the feeling is, in fact, mutual.

 

But he can’t.

 

Not this soon, not when the world as he knew it had been pulled from under his feet just weeks ago. Not when he can barely fathom returning to work with someone new sitting at Sam’s desk, and spends his days stressing about how he’s going to get all of his belongings from the house to Zayn’s spare room without running into his ex.

 

At the same time, these feelings he has for Harry are so foreign--so very different to the comfortable convenience he’d felt when initiating his relationship with Sam. In fact, there is nothing at all comfortable or convenient about this situation, he realises, and that both terrifies Louis and fills him with curiosity.

 

After all, comfort and convenience hasn’t worked out very well at all for him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> More angst! #sorrynotsorry  
> Come say hi to me on tumblr: [spandeedie](http://spandeedie.tumblr.com) or leave me a comment encouraging me to get my ass into gear!


	10. Ten: Stories Stacked Up So Tall

 

Louis is no closer to knowing how to proceed with Harry when they’re gathered round the campfire at Alumuna Station, 24 hours later. The outback air is crisp and cold, in stark contrast to the dry heat of the day, and the warm humidity Louis’ become accustomed to from their nights on the coast. The flames dance high in front of him, beckoning for Louis to reach out his hands and absorb some of the heat into his freezing digits. He closes his eyes and obliges, listening to the crackle made by small foil parcels of damper being placed carefully in the embers as the radiant warmth cuts through the chill in his fingers.

 

Smoky tendrils wind up Louis’ nose, bringing back memories attached to Bonfire Night. He feels cloaked in a rejuvenating silence despite the cocktail of ambient noises surrounding him. There’s something about being this far away from civilisation that is innately peaceful, and Louis lets the quiet relax him, slowing his mind from the overwhelming pace it’s been working at for the past few weeks until it’s focused entirely on the nothingness.

 

Louis sits like this for a few minutes, then tilts his head back and opens his eyes, staring in slack-jawed appreciation at the thick smattering of stars spread across the night sky. A familiar giggle breaks the spell, and Louis rights himself.

 

Surveying the circle of people around him, his eyes catch on Harry and Leigh-Anne, cuddling into each other amicably directly across the circle from him. Harry’s once again nestled in his oversized Packers hoodie, and his long curls have been pulled back into a bun. He looks content and happy, dimples out in full force and eyes glimmering. It sends a shot of regret through Louis’ chest. He wishes so badly it were him making Harry feel this way. _It can be you. Just suck it up and take the risk_.

 

Louis drags his gaze away from the curls and dimples and is amused to find Liam locked in a similar trance, his big brown eyes fixed dreamily on Zayn. Louis’ best friend is oblivious, laughing with Niall as the two of them freestyle a rap battle, Ed seated next to them keeping time with an acoustic guitar that’s appeared out of nowhere. Louis looks back to Liam, whose eyes are positively sparkling with admiration and Louis is suddenly completely distracted from his own worries and caught up in whatever this thing between Zayn and Liam is. There’s no mistaking the fondness in Liam’s eyes now as Zayn blows Niall out of the water with creative use of the word ‘masticate’.

 

Louis turns to Perrie, who’s seated to his right on the log bench. “Are you seeing what I’m seeing?” he murmurs.

 

“If you’re seeing one adorable puppy gazing lovingly at the next big thing in the rap game from across the fire, then yes I am,” she counters. She tilts her head sideways to rest on the palm of her hand, elbow digging into her thigh.

 

Louis snorts out a laugh. “Do you think he knows Zayn has been giving him the same loving gaze for the last five days straight?”

 

“To be honest… I really don’t,” she replies, flaring her nostrils and letting out a sigh. “Although heaven knows the rest of us do.”

 

Rocky, the gregarious and ocker owner of Alumuna, walks up to the fire then, using a long stick to roll a parcel of the damper they’d made earlier from the coals. He opens the foil, and, apparently satisfied with its progress, hands the crisp lump to Louis before addressing the group as a whole. “Damper’s up, folks. If we could get that jam and butter circulating, you can try this Aussie classic in all its glory.” He motions to the condiments sitting on a tray on a nearby tree stump, and Jade hops up to retrieve them.

 

Louis loads up his damper, jam and butter dripping down his fingers as he brings the thick bread to his mouth. He decidedly does not think about how much better it would be if Harry were collecting the drips with his tongue.

 

Still chewing a mouthful, he turns to Perrie, desperate to resume their conversation before he gets completely side-tracked. “We need a plan. We need to give them a genuine reason to fall helplessly into one another’s arms and realise they’ve been wistfully eyeing each other up this whole time.”

 

Perrie twists her mouth to one side, furrowing her brows. She carefully slices her chunk of damper in half with a knife, slathering it with jam before gazing at it happily. “You’re onto something, Tomlinson. Leave it with me. I’ll come up with a plan.” She takes a big bite and closes her eyes happily. “Mmmm, this is good.”

 

Everything falls quiet again as they all sit around, munching on their supper. The conversation is just starting to pick up again when Australian country music starts blaring through the speakers placed outside the nearby recreational hall.

 

Taylor jumps out of her seat. “Yes! Let’s get some line dancing happening up in here!” she cheers, running over to a patch of dirt that has surely been used as a makeshift dance floor in the past.

 

Perrie grins and grabs Louis’ hand, dragging him over to the dance floor and linking their arms at the elbow, forcing Louis into a clockwise skipping movement, swinging him round and round as their mouths fall open with laughter.  

 

>>>I|I<<<

 

Harry swallows his last mouthful of damper and hunches forward, listening in on the current round of the rap battle between Niall and Zayn. He quickly realises that each time Zayn finishes a verse, his eyes flick over to something across the fire from him. Following Zayn’s gaze, Harry finds Liam with a smitten look pasted all over his face. _That’s it_ , Harry thinks to himself. _If it’s not going to be me,_ _I’m going to make sure someone else has some good luck in the romance department on this holiday_.

 

A plan starts formulating in his mind, and when the country music starts and everyone gets distracted by Taylor’s invitation to teach them line dancing, he seizes Niall and Ed, fully intent on dragging them into this half-formed scheme with him. “Boys, we’ve got some matchmaking to do,” he declares. When they respond with inquisitive faces he presses on. “By now, we can quite confidently assume that Zayn’s reciprocating Liam’s feelings, and we’re going to do something about it.”

 

Niall giggles. “I don’t think it’s going to take you the rest of the trip, mate,” he replies, slinging an arm around Harry’s shoulders and pointing to where Zayn is dancing with Jade. Zayn’s throwing his legs out to the side in kicking motions looking like an annoyed horse, but a grin sits firmly on his face and his eyes are locked on Liam, who is executing similarly ridiculous moves a few metres away.

 

“Great,” Harry says, firmly. “Now we don’t need to have a really good plan, because with any luck they’ll both unwittingly help us out with its implementation.”

 

Perrie comes skipping over then, dragging a reluctant-looking Louis with her. “And what, may I ask, are you three looking so mischievous about?” she enquires, wiggling her eyebrows teasingly at them. “It wouldn’t happen to be the disgustingly obvious budding romance between our Payno and Zayno would it?”

 

Harry grins at her, letting his eyes flicker momentarily over to Louis’ face. Louis is watching him intently, and Harry gets a little squeeze of satisfaction in his chest. “Maybe.”

 

“Great,” she continues, placing her hands on her hips. “I promised Louis I’d come up with a plan, but five minds are better than one!”

 

“The problem with five minds plotting at once,” interrupts Ed, “is that right now we look incredibly suspicious over here.”

 

He’s right. Their huddle appears to be drawing the attention of the others, and though Liam and Zayn are still too preoccupied to notice, it’s unlikely they’ll remain completely oblivious for long. As the masterminds of the scheme, Harry and Perrie wave Louis, Ed and Niall off to join in with the dancing while they sit down and share ideas.

 

Half an hour later, they think they have a fairly good plan--albeit one that requires both Liam and Zayn to be a bit silly, gullible and under the influence of alcohol. They split up to fill the other three in on how they intend for it to play out, having agreed to wait until the end of the night to commence their meddling.

 

While he waits, Harry makes a brief attempt to join in with the dancing, but it’s a constant reminder of the fact that he has two left feet so he eventually gives up and sits back with a beer in hand. He’s spent many a party like this, and has developed a taste for people-watching because of it.

 

Eventually, the dancers tire and the music is turned down. It’s time to put the plan into action. Harry gives the agreed upon signal to Niall, Ed and Perrie, and amusedly watches them fall into place. Louis stays put, nursing a fresh beer as he casually chats to Leigh-Anne. He’s excused himself from taking an active role in the plot, pointing out that due to the nature of his and Zayn’s friendship, this may provoke Zayn’s suspicion.

 

First, Niall goes stumbling over to Zayn. Harry’s sure he’s exaggerating the effect of the alcohol to ensure his part goes smoothly. “Zayn! DJ Malik! I need your help!”

 

Zayn throws his arms open, catching Niall in them and pulling him close. “Anything for you, my little leprechaun. What do you need?”

 

Niall’s face turns serious. “Drop bears,” he slurs, convincingly, immediately engaging Zayn’s attention. “I need to know… once and for all… if they’re real.”

 

Zayn looks a little confused, but after a second his face breaks into a grin. “Of course Nialler! We’ll go on a bear hunt. Hey! We’re going on a bear hunt! Like in the song!”

 

_Well_ , Harry thinks as he watches them skip towards the nearby bushland, _this couldn’t have possibly gone better if we’d scripted it_.

 

“Perfect,” he hears a voice say behind him. Harry turns to find Perrie smiling cheekily at him. “Now we just need Liam to take the bait as well.”

 

Being the more sensible of the two, they’d decided Liam needed a more practical reason to follow Ed off into the brush. Harry and Perrie cross their fingers as Ed approaches him.

 

“Liii,” Ed whines, “I need to weee!” Then, a moment later, “Hey! That rhymes!”

 

Liam giggles. “Eddd, my bladder’s crowd-eddd,” he sings in reply.

 

“Liii, let’s go find a treee!”

 

_Wow. Ed’s doing really well at this._

 

“Eddd, maybe a bush insteaddd!”

 

Amazingly, like clockwork, they also disappear into the gum trees. Harry looks at Perrie. “I feel like a Gamemaker in _The Hunger Games_. You ready?”

 

“As I’ll ever be, Seneca!” she replies, picking up one of Harry’s hands and patting it excitedly.

 

They wait until Ed and Liam can no longer be seen before following them into the brush, keeping a safe distance. Eventually, when they can hear Liam and Ed, and Zayn and Niall, in the same vicinity--deep enough in the bush that they can’t immediately escape, but not so far that they can get lost--Harry and Perrie position themselves behind a thick bush to begin the next phase of the plan.

 

Harry goes first, giving his best impression of what a drop bear would sound like. He conjures up a snarling growl, startled himself by the frightening noise that emerges. The voices hush.

 

“Zaynie?” Niall whispers, “What was that?”

 

Harry can’t see them from his position behind the bush, but he can imagine Niall gripping Zayn’s arm in a convincing display of fear. Harry makes the noise again.

 

“Fuck!” Zayn swears. “Niall! We’re going to get mauled like Leigh-Anne’s cousin!”

 

“To be honest, I think we’d be lucky to come away with injuries like his.”

 

Zayn lets out a high-pitched shriek. “You mean to tell me you brought me out on a hunt in the dark to look for something that’s going to kill me? What’s wrong with you?!”

 

Harry makes the noise again.

 

“Be quiet for a second!” Niall shushes him. “I heard it again.”

 

“Niall? Zayn?” A voice comes from somewhere slightly further to Harry’s left. It’s followed by the sound of a footstep, crunching through twigs on the ground.

 

“Niall? Zayn? Is that you?” the nervous voice repeats.

 

“Liam?” Zayn asks, confusion evident in his tone.

 

Harry hears Liam breathe a sigh of relief and turns to give Perrie an excited thumbs up. She returns the gesture enthusiastically.

 

“Yep, it’s us. Me and Ed.”

 

“You and Ed?” Zayn sounds concerned now, almost annoyed. “What are the two of you doing out here in the bushes?”

 

“I could ask the same of you and Niall,” Liam counters indignantly. Harry imagines Liam’s face growing stern, arms folding stubbornly over his chest.

 

_It’s time_ , Harry decides and signals Perrie. As he makes his best drop bear sound again, Perrie shakes the bush they’re behind and lets out a snarling sound herself. They hear a scream and the sound of bodies colliding.

 

“Shit! Zayn! We’re going to die!” Liam cries.

 

“No we’re not. We’ll feed Niall to the drop bears first and use him as a decoy so we can escape. Isn’t that right, Niall?” Zayn pauses. “Niall?”

 

“Ed?” echoes Liam’s voice. Then: “They’ve deserted us!”

 

Harry has to stifle a giggle, before giving one last muted growl to go with the rustle of leaves from Perrie, and the two of them retreat, making sure to make drop bear sounds as they go to assure the boys that the carnivorous predator has let them live. For now.

 

Emerging back at the campfire, they exchange high-fives with Ed and Niall before Perrie runs up to Louis.

 

“I wouldn’t be expecting Zayn in your room too soon,” she tells him, coyly.

 

Louis responds with a wink and a knowing grin. “A job well done, Pez,” he praises her, turning his wide smile to Harry for the briefest of moments before slinking off to his cabin.

 

>>>I|I<<<

 

It’s almost 3am when Zayn comes stumbling into their little cabin, leaves in his hair and clothes crumpled. In his groggy, half-sleeping state, Louis still manages to summon the energy to hold his arm up for a high five.

 

Flopping on the single bed next to him, Zayn curls up on his side, facing Louis with a dreamy look on his face.

 

Louis clears his throat and lifts himself up onto an elbow. “So?”

 

“So, what?” Zayn gives a sly smile.

 

“You know what!”

 

“Yeah…”

 

A productive conversation. Louis rolls his half-open eyes and murmurs a grunt of disapproval. “Okay, Casanova. If you’re going to make me work for the gory details, I think I’d rather go back to sleep.” He slumps back down onto the mattress.

 

Zayn huffs a sigh of surrender. “So, Niall wanted me to go look for drop bears, right? And I was pretty tipsy at that stage so I went with him.” Zayn looks over, as if to check if Louis is listening. Louis makes eye contact and nods encouragingly with one cheek still smooshed into his pillow. “Then we’re in amongst the trees and we hear this, like, growling sound. So Niall started freaking out, which made me freak out. So we were just standing there, dead still, listening for more noises and the sound happened again. And just when we’re in the midst of freaking out again, we hear Liam call our names.” Zayn pauses, eyes wide and mouth hanging open as if he’s been shocked all over again.

 

Carefully, Louis mirrors his expression. “What? Why was Liam in there?”

 

“I know! And Ed was with him. At first I was a bit weirded out. Like, what were they doing off together in the bushes? But before I could really process it, Niall and Ed had disappeared. So Liam and I grab each other but then the noise we’d heard starts getting further away.” Zayn rolls onto his back, gesticulating towards the ceiling. “So obviously what’s happened is, Niall and Ed have bolted, the absolute gits, but they’ve either scared off the drop bear or it’s gone after them.”

 

“Obviously,” Louis replies, drily.

 

“So then, yeah, I guess we were standing in the middle of the scrub just like, holding onto each other, and I saw him kind of focusing on my mouth so I just went for it.” Zayn lets his head fall to the side, his eyes fixed once again on Louis. Though it’s dark, Louis is sure a blush is spreading across his olive complexion.

 

“Oi, oi!” Louis exclaims croakily, pumping a fist in the air. “Well done, Zee. I’m proud.”

 

A soppy grin spreads from one side of Zayn’s face to the other. “Thanks, Lou. He’s so fit. And he makes me happy. And he’s not a bad kisser, either.”

 

Louis wrinkles his nose, sticking his tongue out. “Okay, okay, that’s enough. I’m really happy for you. Honestly. I hope you go on to have many tanned, muscly little babies,” he says, earnestly.

 

The room falls quiet.

 

“Who’d have thought it would be a nasty carnivorous creature that would get us together,” Zayn sighs.

 

Louis pauses, unsure of whether to break the news to his friend or not. _What the hell_. “Zayn?”

 

“Yes, Louis?”

 

“You know there’s no such thing as drop bears, right?”

 

Louis takes the silence from the other bunk as his cue to fall asleep again.

 

>>>I|I<<<

 

Louis wakes up early the next morning, a combination of the leftover alcohol in his system and the chorus of native birds singing outside his window. Australian fauna sure know how to make a racket. He hauls his legs over the side of his little bunk and stretches. It’s warm already, but he’s learning to expect that. Slipping on a vest and shorts, he ventures out of the cabin and takes a seat next to the pit of smouldering embers that once contained an impressive fire.

 

He stokes the coals until he gets a small fire going again, then takes the billy and fills it up with tea leaves from a tin sitting next to the fire pit, and water from a nearby tap. They’d had a short demonstration on bush cooking the day before, and Louis is keen to try his hand at an authentic cup of bush tea. He carefully places the little tin on its hook over the fire and sits back to wait for it to heat up.

 

Louis smiles as he mentally recounts his best friend’s story from the night before, glad it worked out for Zayn and Liam. _It’d be so nice to find someone with no exes or rebound periods to worry about_. A small chuckle leaves Louis’ lips as he pictures Harry hiding in the bushes mimicking a drop bear in order to bring Liam and Zayn together.

 

The simple thought of Harry sends a little shiver down Louis’ spine. _It could be so good between us_. He imagines a life with Harry as a main character. Him bringing Harry tea in the morning, maybe on a little tray with a single flower in a vase. Harry getting home from work and reading Louis excerpts of the latest new novel to fall across his desk. The two of them curled up together on the couch, feet intertwined as they watch _Saturday Night Takeaway_.

 

The fantasy reel has barely started when Louis’ bubble is burst by the sudden recollection of his current situation. _Still healing. Still letting go. You can’t be ready to invest in someone else so soon._

 

He’s so lost in his thoughts that he barely notices when someone comes and sits down beside him. It’s Perrie. She puts a hand on his shoulder and gives it a pat, a silent greeting from someone he’s learned finds mornings difficult.

 

“Morning, love,” he says, softly.

 

She murmurs in reply, and together they sit, gazing over the flames for a few more minutes until Louis hears the water start to boil. He fetches two mugs from the kitchenette in the open recreation hall, puts a splash of milk in each and wanders back to the billy, where he fills up each cup with hot tea. He hands one cup to Perrie and she smiles up at him gratefully.

 

They sip their tea in companionable silence, listening to the croaking of cicadas and morning song of the currawong birds. After she’s finished her cup, Perrie stretches her arms, letting out a little sigh of contentment. “Louis?”

 

“Yeah, Pez,” he replies, looking into her sleepy blue eyes.

 

“You know that a shitty experience with one git who doesn’t deserve you shouldn’t affect your ability to be with someone who might, right?”

 

_Wow, okay. No need for small talk here, apparently_. Louis sighs, only minutely surprised by Perrie’s ability to hit the nail on the head with no prior information. He could pretend he doesn’t know who she’s referring to, but can’t really be bothered. “Yeah, Pez,” he says again.

 

“Good,” she responds, firmly. “And you know that timing doesn’t have to be an excuse to deny yourself something that could be really good for you?”

 

Louis nods gently. Beneath all the worrying and the what-ifs that have heaped up since he received Sam’s second text, he knows she’s right.

 

He briefly considers trying to explain to her how he wants so much to be able to take her advice and run with it. He’d love to be able to give himself over to his feelings for Harry and let himself find happiness with the slow-speaking, curly-haired boy. But there’s so many things standing in the way that would make it an impossible match.

 

_Like… Like..._ His mind goes to make a list of those obstacles, but all of a sudden Louis can’t find anything.

 

His mind goes completely, utterly blank.

 

Perrie’s watching him like she knows his struggle and is wondering whether to comment on it. She seems to think better of it, and instead wraps him up in a hug, kissing his forehead before turning back to face the fire.  

 

Slowly, the others trickle out of their cabins and come to sit with them. An hour or so later, Nick arrives to let them know breakfast is available in the hall, and they move off to fill up their rumbling stomachs.

 

Louis is dragging a piece of toast through the leftover egg yolk on his plate, simultaneously sipping from his second cup of tea, when Zayn plonks down opposite him. “Morning, my little fuzzy hedgehog!” he says, way too cheerily for Louis’ liking.

 

Because he’s a good friend and wants to support his newly-kissed mate, Louis pastes on a smile and meets Zayn’s eyes. “Morning, sunshine. Seen Liam yet?”

 

Zayn goes a bright shade of red and nervously glances around their immediate vicinity. “No. I’m a bit nervous actually. It’s been so long since I’ve been in a situation like this! How do I act when he comes in?” Zayn has lowered his voice to a hushed whisper as he leans in to seek Louis’ advice.

 

“’Fraid I’m not a great person to ask, Zee,” Louis replies, stretching out an index finger to boop Zayn on the nose. “Didn’t you discuss this last night before you went to your respective cabins?”

 

Zayn’s eyes widen. “No? Was I supposed to?” His mouth twists into a pout. “Shit.”

 

“Well, no, not necessarily. But it may have helped avoid the awkwardness this morn--” Louis stops short when two beefy arms reach around Zayn’s neck, and Liam’s face swoops in to kiss him on the cheek. The horrified look on Zayn’s face is priceless, and Louis struggles to hold back a giggle.

 

“Morning,” Liam says, cheerily, plopping himself down in the chair beside Zayn. “Did we sleep well?”

 

The question is addressed to them both, but Liam’s only looking at Zayn, who nods softly, his eyes locked onto Liam’s big brown ones. Louis clears his throat, and they both swing round to look at him, remembering along the way to be a little embarrassed and fixing their faces accordingly.

 

“It’s okay, boys. I’ll let you two catch up on everything that’s happened since you parted at 3am.”

 

With that, Louis stands, picking up his plate and dropping it by the kitchen with a word of thanks before heading to his cabin to grab his luggage and take it to the bus. While he waits by the bus for the others to join him, he checks his email, amazed that he still gets reception out here in the middle of nowhere.

 

He’s halfway through an email from his mum when Zayn comes up behind him, grabbing his elbow lightly.

 

Louis starts. “Zayn! What are you doing? Aren’t you supposed to be reminiscing with Liam?” When he turns to face his friend, he finds Zayn looking solemn. “What? What’s happened?”

 

“Lou…” Zayn’s face contorts into a picture of unease. “Did you get a message from Sam yesterday?”

 

Louis’ eyes roam Zayn’s face for a moment. Slowly, he nods. “Yeah, how--”

 

“He messaged me. Just now.” Zayn’s eyebrows draw together as he reaches into his back pocket and pulls out his iPhone.

 

Louis’ stomach churns as he waits for Zayn to pull up the message. _What the fuck was Sam thinking, going to Zayn?_

 

The harsh morning sun makes it difficult to see Zayn’s screen when he hands his phone over. Louis cups one hand over the top of the phone and the little white bubble of text comes into view.

 

“Hey Zayn. I know I probably shouldn’t be messaging you, but Louis isn’t replying to my texts. Is he doing okay?”

 

At the top of the message, Louis notices with vague amusement that Zayn has changed Sam’s contact to “Stupid Twat” accompanied by the poo emoji. He’s too sidetracked by the text to give it the laugh it deserves. Zayn watches for Louis’ reaction like a hawk.

 

“It was when you left dinner wasn’t it?” Zayn’s face softens when Louis’ expression stays steely. He reaches up to tenderly grip Louis’ arm.

 

Louis nods again, biting his lip. He’d told Zayn a white lie before fleeing from the table, spinning a short story about his mum having a rough day and needing to talk to her son.

 

“Lou.” Zayn sighs. “You can tell me these things. I’m your best friend.”

 

Louis takes a step in towards Zayn, looking up to meet the gaze of his deep brown eyes. “I know. I’m sorry. I just… with all this Harry stuff--and then Sam as well--I just got a bit overwhelmed and confused. I needed to clear my head.”

 

“Hey, man, I get it,” Zayn replies softly. “It’s a shitty situation to be in, and Sam should not be messaging you right now. What’s he been saying?”

 

Louis screws his face up as he recalls the messages. “Nothing much. He misses me. He hopes I’m okay. Other manipulative shit. It’s fine. I’m fine.”

 

“Prick.”

 

“Yeah, I guess. Wonder what Aidan thinks about him messaging me.” Louis rubs a hand over his growing beard. He’s enjoying the opportunity he has to look a bit rugged, with no boss to appease or boyfriend to scrub up for. “On second thought, he probably doesn’t know. Sam’s good at hiding things, apparently.”

 

“Do you want me to tell him to fuck off?” Zayn’s eyes are wide and earnest.

 

Louis feels a surge of gratitude for his friend. “Nah, man, just leave it. We’re here to enjoy ourselves, not worry about communicating with his sorry arse.” Louis is surprised to realise he feels more resigned than angry. The intense loathing and hurt of the past few weeks seems to have been replaced with an apathetic acceptance of Sam’s actions. The space Sam filled in Louis’ life is closing over with every day he spends in Australia. _Let’s just hope it lasts when you step off the plane at Heathrow_.

 

Zayn slings an arm around Louis’ shoulders and pulls him into a hug. “Love you, man. And if you want to talk about Sam or whatever’s going down between you and Harry, you know where to find me.”

 

Louis smiles and touches his forehead to Zayn’s. “I know.” He pauses a moment, lifting his head to look Zayn in the eye. “Thank you.”

 

Eventually, they’re all congregated around the white vehicle they’ve spent so much time on, although Nick isn’t letting anyone on board. Yet. “Morning all!” he exclaims, far too enthusiastic for the hour. “Bit of a change in the way we do things today!”

 

There are a few groans amongst the travellers. Bus time has been much needed downtime amidst a rather hectic schedule of activities, and they’ve quickly settled into something of a routine.

 

Nick folds his arms across his chest and raises an amused eyebrow. “Instead of letting you all file in and take exactly the same seats as you’ve been sitting in for the past week, I’m going to make sure you’re all getting to know someone you might not yet have had a good chat to.”

 

Louis’ heart speeds up, thumping hard in his chest. The idea of spending a full three hours sitting next to Harry sounds too good to be true. _But as if Nick’s going to let that happen._

 

“I’m going to give you a card,” Nick continues, reaching into his back pocket and pulling out a wad of laminated cardboard squares. “It has a symbol on it, which corresponds to a seat on the bus. There is to be no swapping- this will be your seat from now until we arrive in Emu Park. Understand?”

 

There is a general murmur of consent and they line up to take a card from Nick. Having arrived at the bus first, Louis hops on first. He looks down at the blue smiley face in his hand, and seeks out the seat in the bus with the matching card. It’s right up the back, the seat next to it bearing a card with a green smiley face. Original. Louis makes his way down the aisle to the back, his heart sinking a little when he spies Harry all the way back at the end of the line, clutching a paper bag from the station’s tiny gift shop. _Of course he’s the type to buy souvenirs_. He takes his seat and waits.

 

It’s excruciating, watching each of his peers traipse onto the bus and take every seat but the one next to him. Finally, the inevitable happens. Harry appears inside the bus, a green smiley face held in the same hand as his gift shop goods. When he realises where he’ll be sitting, his face breaks into a grin.

 

Relief floods Louis’ body as Harry manoeuvres his way down the aisle and slides in next to him. As he tucks the paper bag away in his backpack, Louis sneaks a look inside. Postcards.

 

Harry zips up the compartment of his bag. “So, three hours, huh?”

 

“That’s what Nick said.” Louis shrugs. The tiny hitch in his voice betrays his attempt at nonchalance.

 

Harry sits up and looks straight into Louis’ eyes, a wide smile stretching his cheeks. “Bring it on.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you, [gettingaphdinlarry](http://gettingaphdinlarry.tumblr.com)!
> 
> Hope you guys enjoyed the chapter and there wasn't too many Australianisms in there to confuse you! (They certainly confused gettingaphdinlarry). 
> 
> Leave me a comment letting me know what you thought or come say hey on tumblr: [Spandeedie](http://spandeedie.tumblr.com)


	11. Interlude

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A crack interlude to gnaw on while I write the next chapter (because uni essays have been sapping all of my writing time this holidays and I legit have got nothing done). This was inspired by the [Top 30 Iconic Larry Stylinson moments](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=EGQZk9F6Dxs) vid by freddieismyqueen, which I was watching tonight because I felt like all this baby bulls*$# has dragged me away from the main reason I came into this fandom and left me exhausted. It was refreshing and I recommend going to have another watch if you haven't recently.

The following is a transcript of the conversation between _Harry Edward Styles_ and _Louis William Tomlinson_ as heard by _Niall James Horan_ while travelling between _Alumuna Station_ and _Emu Park_.

 

Sections in _italics_ depict Niall’s thoughts.

 

Harry: Three hours, huh?

 

Louis: That’s what Nick said.

 

Harry: Bring it on.

 

_Oh, here we go. As if it weren’t already easy enough to feel nauseated on a long bus trip…_

 

Louis: *silence*

 

Harry: *silence*

 

_Well that was anticlimactic._

 

Louis: So… Zayn and Liam.

 

Harry: Yeah!

 

Louis: The plan worked!

 

Harry: Yeah!

 

_What riveting conversational skills these two have._

 

Louis: Zayn was quite smug when he came into the cabin last night. 3am by the time he finally stumbled in, would you believe it?

 

Harry: No way! I thought Liam was looking a bit like the cat who ate the canary this morning. Did you get details?

 

_Please let there be details, please let there be--_

 

Louis: Nah, not really.

 

 _Bollocks_.

 

Harry: Shame. I would have liked to know the outcome of my convincing drop-bearing.

 

Louis: Did you just make ‘drop bear’ a verb?

 

Harry: What if I did?

 

Louis: Then I’m concerned about your lack of respect for the English language.

 

Harry: And which, of the two of us, edits other people’s English for a living?

 

Louis: Well I know who does, but now I also know who probably shouldn’t.

 

Harry: _Hey!_

 

_Was that the sound of Harry’s fist making playful contact with Louis’ bicep? Could the flirting between these two get any less subtle? Are they… are they wrestling?_

 

Louis: *wrestling Harry, attempting to muss up his hair*

 

Harry: *wrestling Louis, attempting to tickle his ribs*

 

Louis: *giggling* Stop! Stop!

 

Harry: *also giggling* Not until you take it back!

 

Louis: *hiccups* I *hiccups* take it back! *hiccups* Oh my god, stop!

 

Harry: *stops* You have the hiccups!

 

Louis: *hiccups*

 

Harry: You have the most adorable hiccup I’ve ever heard.

 

_Can hiccups be adorable when you’re 26?_

 

Louis: *hiccups* Thanks, Harold. I need to get rid of them. *hiccups* My chest hurts.

 

Harry: I happen to be a hiccup-curing expert.

 

_How convenient._

 

Louis: *hiccups*

 

Harry: Right, look into my eyes. Good. Now, Louis, when I say “banana” you have to hiccup, okay?

 

Louis: Okay. *hiccups*

 

Harry: Okay. Keep looking into my eyes. Now, Louis: Banana!

 

Louis: *silence*

 

Harry: Louis! Banana! Now!

 

Louis: *silence*

 

Harry: Louis Tomlinson I said ‘banana’, now hiccup!

 

Louis: Harry did you just get rid of my hiccups?

 

Harry: I told you I’m an expert.

 

Louis: Holy shit. You actually just healed me.

 

Harry: You’re welcome.

 

Louis: Mostly I’m just relieved I’ll never have to try and drink water upside down again. That never ends well.

 

Harry: As if you tried that! Everyone knows that doesn’t work.

 

Louis: Well not everyone has a Harold around to cure their hiccups now, do they?

 

Harry: I’m a rare commodity.

 

Louis: You’re an oddity alright.

 

Harry: Hey, have I told you about the time I got a fright from an avocado?

 

_No! Harry, why would you tell this story?_

 

Louis: I rest my case.

 

Harry: Shush. So I was at Tesco choosing an avocado. For whatever reason they were ridiculously expensive that day, so I wanted to make sure I got a good one.  


Louis: Fair.

 

Harry: So I was feeling the tops of all the avocados, giving them a little squeeze to see how soft they were, and they’re all rock hard. I reckon I squeezed about 20 avocados. All hard.

 

_If he only knew how this sounds…_

 

Harry: And then, all of a sudden, I pick up this avocado and squeeze it… _and it was so soft_! It gave me a fright because I wasn’t expecting it to be soft. So I squealed and jumped out of my skin.

 

Louis: Who _are_ you?

 

Harry: It was legitimately scary! But that’s not even the best bit. There was a woman near me, choosing her apples, and my squeal scared _her_ , so then she jumped and squealed. And then we both just start laughing. So I’m standing in the middle of the Tesco with a forty-something-year-old woman laughing hysterically.

 

_No, Styles! You’re trying to attract this man!_

 

Louis: I’m a little sad I wasn’t there, actually.

 

_Well. Apparently he’s smitten enough to overlook that embarrassment of a story. Don’t know that I need to stick around for anymore of this sop fest, actually. I’m going to sleep._

 

Niall taps Jade on the thigh. “Hey, can I borrow your shoulder?”

 

“Huh?” Her lip curls in confusion.

 

“It’s nap time.”

 

“Oh. Sure,” she whispers. “But if you snore, can you do it quietly? I’m listening to this ridiculous conversation…”

  
  



	12. Twelve: All the Grey Turns into Gold

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Long-awaited is an understatement. Thanks for sticking by me :) 
> 
> As usual: [gettingaphdinlarry](http://gettingaphdinlarry.tumblr.com) is the best.

 

A trickle of sweat emerges from Harry’s hairline and makes its way slowly down his forehead. He feels it catch in his eyebrow, and lifts up a hand to wipe it away. He’s a little alarmed by the temperature of his skin; he’s had more than his fair share of sunburn on this trip so far. Sitting up, Harry’s head swims as he gets his bearings. Opening his eyes, he’s instantly blinded by the dazzling glare of the sunlight hitting the water and bouncing back onto his face. Around him, the pristine white deck of the yacht is quiet--most of the group having chosen to take their siesta away from the harsh afternoon sun.

 

He spots Zayn a few metres away, lying stomach down on his towel, a book in hand as usual. He’s reading a battered copy of _Call of the Wild_ by Jack London, and Harry chuckles to himself at the irony of the perfectly coiffed Zayn, covered in a sunscreen/body lotion hybrid from a high-end cosmetics line and wearing Polo Ralph Lauren swimming trunks, reading a tale of instinct and intuitive survival in the wilderness.

 

Harry sighs deeply as he turns his gaze to the turquoise sea surrounding them. It takes all of his self-discipline not to throw himself overboard, imagining himself floating in the crystal-clear water in complete serenity. Instead, he hauls himself up and makes his way over to Zayn.

 

“Can I nick a sip of your water?” Harry asks, by way of introduction. He gestures to the sweating bottle of spring water perched next to Zayn’s brown shoulder.

 

Zayn hoists himself up on an elbow, and passes the bottle. “Be my guest. Hot, innit?”

 

Harry murmurs in agreement. “But so good,” he adds. “How do we go back to London knowing this type of weather exists in a place this beautiful?”

 

Zayn grins, nodding. “It’s not going to be easy. But London has its own perks.”

 

Zayn’s comment seems fairly innocent, and yet Harry feels a warm blush spread across his cheeks. He hopes to God that it’s masked by his sunburn.

 

“Seems like when we go back there’ll even be some extra perks that weren’t there before,” Zayn remarks, slyly.

 

Harry chokes on his mouthful of water, coughing and spluttering in an embarrassing and poorly-timed fit. He clears his throat and wipes a hand across his mouth as Zayn looks on, mouth twitching in amusement.

 

“Things went well with you and Liam the other night, then,” Harry asks, feigning ignorance. He knows exactly how well things went. Zayn and Liam had been virtually inseparable since, throughout their short stay at Emu Park and their trip out to the Whitsundays, where they boarded the yacht. If they weren’t attached at the hip, they were attached at the lips, much to the delight of Andy and Louis, and the disgust of the rest of the group.

 

Zayn nods. “Yeah, you could say that. I think we’ll be keeping in touch back home.” He winks at Harry, who can’t help but grin.

 

He’s been in a good mood since Nick forced him to spend the extensive bus trip sitting next to Louis. The banter and quizzing of one another had only stopped when fatigue reared its head two hours into the drive and they’d fallen asleep on each other. Harry had been delighted to wake up with Louis’ head resting on his shoulder and his tanned, slender arm wrapped around Harry’s. Thinking about it now sends a happy squirm through his stomach.

 

“How about you and Lou, have you made plans to hang out back home?” Zayn fixes his eyes on Harry, who takes a deep breath, hoping his response comes out smoothly.

 

“Not plans as such, no. But plenty of time left to make them!”

 

Zayn hesitates, as though he wants to say something further thinks better of it. “It’s good we all get along so well, isn’t it? Nick says he’s never seen such a compatible group on a tour.”

 

Harry smiles. “It’s the best.” He screws the lid of the bottle back on and places it back down next to Zayn. “Hey, thanks for the drink. I’m going to head inside before I burn even more.”

 

Zayn raises his eyebrows in acknowledgement, turning onto his back and picking up his book. “Seeya, mate.”

 

>>>I|I<<<

 

Ducking under the doorframe, Harry takes in the quiet scene playing out in the main living space of the yacht. He wants to see Louis, but his initial scan of the room leaves him disappointed. Leigh-Anne, Jade, Niall and Ed are playing cards at a table, a lazy game of Five Hundred that no one seems to be taking too seriously. Andy is sprawled bare-chested across a couch, snoring. Nick is sitting at a table, going through some paperwork, and Jesy sits opposite him, writing a postcard. Taylor and Calvin are missing too, probably back in their sleeping quarters. The yacht isn’t a big one, and Harry was amazed to find the economical use of space meant there was space for them all to coexist in relatively roomy conditions. Sure, they were to be sleeping in small bunks in partitioned spaces, but the living space and deck meant there was plenty of room to breathe.

 

Perrie and Liam come strolling out from the hallway leading to the bunks, chatting happily. They each have a towel and bottle of water in hand. As the pair makes their way past Harry to the deck, Perrie takes the opportunity to give Harry’s butt a cheeky pinch. He turns to scold her, and she winks at him, mouthing something that looks quite a bit like “He’s on his bunk”. Harry wrinkles his nose, not sure whether to thank her or pretend she hadn’t just read his mind.

 

Harry sets off towards the bunks, and sure enough he finds Louis reclining on top of his bed, which is messy and unmade despite the fact that they’re yet to spend a night on the boat. Louis looks up when Harry steps into the space, closing the bi-fold screen behind him. Harry’s heart skips a beat when Louis’ mouth twists into a pleased smile. The sight of him lying there, hair long and mussed, and face covered in a layer of scruffy beard, is enough to send Harry temporarily insane.

 

In a trance he crosses the short floor space between them and sits down on the end of the mattress. Louis starts to pull his knees up to his chest in an attempt to make space, but Harry grabs the socked feet and pulls Louis’ legs over his lap. “Whatcha doin’?”

 

“Napping.”

 

Louis’ voice is rough with sleep, an unbearably sexy quality that renders Harry speechless. He finds himself running a palm up and down one of Louis’ shins, noticing properly the assortment of tattoos on his legs and feet.

 

“Harry?” Louis is watching him, bemused.

 

“What’s ‘The Rogue’?”

 

Louis wrinkles his nose. “My high school band. Embarrassing, right?” He scratches the back of his head and diverts his eyes to his lap.

 

Harry laughs. “White Eskimo.”

 

“White Eskimo?” Louis looks up at him, confused.

 

“My high school band.”

 

“We both had terribly amateur teenage bands? Harry! This was meant to b--” Louis stops suddenly, blushing.

 

Amused at Louis’ embarrassment but not wanting to create awkwardness between them, Harry smiles and nods. “Totally. Except you’d never catch me taking a nap when there’s sunshine to be enjoyed on a yacht in the middle of the Whitsundays.”

 

“I was tired,” Louis protests. “Besides, I didn’t want you to feel inadequate by getting more of a tan than you, so I figured I should give you a chance to catch up.”

 

Harry narrows his eyes jokingly. Before Louis can cotton on to what he’s doing he reaches over, pushing up one leg of Louis’ swimmers to reveal the milky white skin underneath. He tries to ignore the way Louis’ breath hitches at the contact. “Nice tan line you got going there, Casper.” _Lucky Niall isn’t here to point out the hypocrisy_.

 

Louis swats his hand away. “Like you can talk.” He makes a grab for Harry’s leg, the sudden movement causing him to lose his balance. With a thud, Louis crashes to the floor.

 

Harry dissolves into hysterics, clutching his stomach as the laughter wears down his abs. He realises too late that this position leaves him vulnerable, and all it takes is a swift yank at his arm for Louis to bring him down off the bunk. He lands on top of the other man, faces close as they both laugh until tears roll down their cheeks. Eventually, their giggles subside. Daringly, Harry leans further forward until his forehead is touching Louis’. He steadies his breathing as he studies the irises of Louis’ eyes. _Blue greeny blue, like little globes of the world._ Louis’ breath comes in short, warm bursts brushing Harry’s chin. It’s so tempting, he could so easily just--

 

Louis clears his throat. He grasps Harry by the shoulders and rolls him onto the floor, sitting up. “Let’s go have a swim, hey?”

 

Harry’s stomach plummets. He’s not sure what’s worse--the humiliation or the disappointment. Swallowing thickly, he nods as he clambers off the floor. He lets Louis leave first, giving his groin a chance to adjust to the change of plans before following him back out through the living area and onto the deck.

 

>>>I|I<<<

 

Louis shields his eyes from the sun as he emerges into the warm afternoon light. Everyone had migrated onto the deck, summoned by the promise of pre-dinner appetisers. The idea of eating makes him feel a ill after what he just did to Harry.

 

Harry, who had sought him out and had the balls to instigate physical contact; whose playful banter had made Louis feel happier than he had in weeks; whose green eyes had gazed down at him, taking his breath away. It makes no sense to the rational part of Louis that he would continuously run from something that brings him so much joy, and yet here he is, running.

 

He makes a beeline for the esky of beer. Grabbing one of the cold bottles he flicks off the cap with a nearby bottle opener and walks over to Zayn.

 

Zayn smirks when he sees Louis approaching. “Oh, hey. Where’ve you been and why are you and Harry emerging from below deck at the same time, hmmm?”

 

“Don’t,” Louis growls, and thankfully his friend obeys. They stand there in silence, sipping their beers. Louis watches as Harry finds Ed and Niall, amused by the similarity in their actions, both immediately seeking out safety in the company of their oldest friends. He feels Zayn’s arm fall across his shoulders and takes another swig of his drink.

 

“What are you doing to the poor kid, Lou?” Zayn’s voice is soft but probing.

 

Louis sighs, genuinely exasperated by his own actions. “I don’t know, Zee. I think I must be mad. Am I mad?” He rubs his cheek with his free hand, shaking his head slightly. “Anyone would be mad to pass up Harry.”

 

“He’s pretty perfect.” Zayn pauses, but continues when he sees the glare Louis sends his way. “But that doesn’t mean you’re making a mistake by running away from him. If you’re not in a place where you can offer him the relationship he deserves, you’re doing him a favour. But you need to decide one way or the other. It’s this half-arsed interest that ends up damaging friendships.”

 

The words sting, but Louis knows his friend is delivering him the truth. Harry’s thinly-veiled misery is written all over his face, even as he laughs at one of Niall’s lame jokes. Louis can’t keep doing this to him, and he knows it. Nor can he deny the pure happiness he feels in Harry’s presence, or the physical attraction constantly turning his stomach when Harry’s beautiful face is looking his way. He’s not at all ready to launch back into a relationship, but the thought of missing this opportunity suddenly feels way too heavy to ignore. _The most you can do is try_. So Louis does what he does best. He drains what’s left of his beer and opens another one. _Nothing like Dutch courage to help put a difficult decision into action._

 

>>>I|I<<<

 

Six beers later and someone has started pumping music through the speakers on the yacht’s deck. Their dinner of barbecued meat and salad has dulled the effect of his drinks, but Louis stubbornly persists. And then Niall emerges from the cabins with a big bottle of Irish Whiskey in each hand. Nick fetches shot glasses from the gully and starts handing them out as Niall pours generous shots into each one.

 

Zayn seems to have cottoned on to Louis’ plan--possibly because after Louis’ fifth beer he had whispered “I’m getting drunk so I can drunkenly seduce Harry” in his friend’s ear. He had issued copious warnings, but each time had been assured that this was the only way for Louis to make it happen.

 

As he watches Louis down his shot of Jameson, Zayn passes his own shot over. “Your need is greater than mine,” he says, solemnly. No sooner is the whiskey burning its way down Louis’ throat has Zayn stuck his tongue down Liam’s.

 

 _Gross_.

 

Louis surveys the scene before him. Taylor weaves her way around the deck, phone in hand, snapping selfies and happy snaps. She reaches Louis. “My photo-bomber! It’s time we had a proper photo together, don’t you think?”

 

Louis grins, thinking of Harry’s phone. He runs a hand through his hair, hoping to God he doesn’t look as drunk as he feels. Throwing an arm around Taylor’s shoulders, Louis raises a hand and points at her. He opens his eyes wide and sticks his tongue out. Taylor raises an arm and deftly snaps shots in quick succession. She opens them up to review them and Louis nods, satisfied. “Good pics, Tay. You gonna post that to Insta?”

 

“Are you kidding? Of course I am. My followers will go crazy for a proper photo of you!” She swiftly kisses his cheek and waltzes off, tapping buttons on her phone to send the photo into the ether.

 

The moment she leaves him, Andy appears, two shots in hand. “Drink, Lewis!”

 

They take the shots as Niall cheers approvingly. “That’s my boys! Cheers to the freakin’ weekend!”

 

Louis grins. “I’ll drink to that, Nialler.” He skips over to Jesy and Perrie, who stagger round the deck in a drunken attempt at a bridal waltz. “Allow me to cut in, ladies.”

 

Jesy grabs his outstretched hand, transferring herself into his grasp. Perrie sticks her tongue out at them and twirls away, colliding with Ed and Harry, who appear to be having a serious conversation. As he dances around with Jesy, Louis realises he hasn’t seen Harry take a single sip of alcohol since the deck party started. Apparently they have different approaches to dealing with this type of situation.

 

“Ground control to major Lou,” Jesy sings. “Are you with me, love?”

 

He scrunches his face into a squinty smile, lips pulled together tightly. He’s been making this face since he was a kid to get him out of trouble. “With you, Jes. Now spin!” He flings her out, holding an arm out for her to spin underneath. The unexpected force throws Jesy off balance and sends her flying. Time slows down as Louis watches disaster unfold in front of him. The momentum from his move is enough for Jesy to hurtle to the edge of the deck, where Jade is standing atop the lounge seat that runs around the perimeter of the yacht. As Jesy falls into her, Jade wobbles, losing her balance. Niall throws out an arm to catch her, but is too late. Jade tumbles over the side of the boat, the splash that follows confirming her entry to the water.

 

>>>I|I<<<

 

Harry watches as Louis throws Jesy out in an attempt to spin her. _Jesus Christ, he’s drunk_. Uncharacteristic anger bubbles in his chest. But there’s no time to reflect further on the idiotic and misleading behaviour Louis had subjected him to that afternoon, because all of a sudden Jade disappears from sight.

 

Harry barely registers what has happened before he tears off his t-shirt and jumps in after her. He is surprised by the water’s warmth as he swims over to where Jade is treading water, spluttering. He reaches her in seconds, and she clings to him. “Harry,” she giggles. “I fell in!”

 

Harry laughs, relieved at her ability to approach the situation in good humour. “An astute observation, young Jade. Now let’s get you out.”

 

He swims to the ladder on the side of the yacht, letting her clamber up it before following her up onto the deck. Leigh-Anne is waiting for them both, two towels in hand. As she wraps them up, the others cheer. Harry’s cheeks burn in embarrassment as people crowd in, praising him for his quick actions and checking with Jade if she’s okay. _You’d think we fought off a shark or something_. Harry diverts his gaze and finds Niall standing a little way back, looking annoyed. _He’s probably just worried about Jade. Wish he’d admit to his big, fat crush on her_.

 

As the crowd clears, so does the party atmosphere. The girls take Jade back to their bunks to dry her off and put her to bed. Nick starts cleaning up the bottles and glasses that are scattered around the place. Taylor and Calvin retreat, as do Liam and Zayn. The sudden deterioration of the celebrations is depressing, so Harry lets Ed lead him down to their cabin.

 

He’s pulling on a clean, dry pair of tracksuit bottoms when a furious Niall comes barging through the partition. “What the fuck are you playing at, Harry?” Niall’s words are slurred, to nobody’s surprise, and he walks right up to Harry and shakes him by the shoulders. “Why the fuck would you do that to me?”

 

Harry takes a step back, astounded. “Do what? Get off me, Nialler. What did I do?”

 

Ed makes towards them, ready to pull Niall off, but Niall throws out one arm to hold him back. “Back off, Ed. You both know I like Jade, but you just couldn’t let me have this one shot.”

 

Now Harry’s even more confused. “What are you--” he starts, before realisation dawns on his features. “Wait. You wanted me to invite you to jump in after Jade? You’re mad at me because I went after her?”

 

“You took my chance to be the hero! I was going to save her, Harry. She would have loved the shit out of that.”

 

“Fuck, would you listen to yourself? You are drunk as hell and having a go at me for not letting you jump into the ocean in the dark. You’re being a fucking idiot right now.” Harry grabs Niall’s hands and throws them off his shoulders, turning around and stalking out of the room. _How dare he._

 

Harry realises halfway to the deck that he’s still shirtless and has a towel on his head, wrapped like a turban. He strides towards the bow of the yacht, stopping halfway to flip his head upside down. Unravelling his turban, he rubs his hair dry and drops the towel at his feet. The long, damp tendrils drip down his back, but he’s too annoyed to pay them any mind.

 

 _Today could not have been worse_.

 

Harry reaches the railing and looks out over the hull of the boat at the sparkling black water that lies ahead of them. For a moment he almost laughs, thinking about the parallels between him and Kate Winslet in _Titanic_ , but his sour mood puts an end to that. Harry takes a deep breath and lets it out slowly. He’s been neglecting his yoga practice, he realises, and it’s messing with his head.

 

Out of the corner of his eye, Harry senses movement to his left. He spins around in shock. “What the f--Louis?!”

 

Louis huddles on the floor, his back resting against the sloped wall of the bridge. He has a blanket wrapped around his shoulders, and his knees are drawn up under his chin.  At Harry’s exclamation he shrinks back, dropping his eyes to the deck. “Sorry, didn’t want to interrupt you.”

 

“What are you doing out here?”

 

“Sobering up,” Louis replies earnestly. He reaches into a plastic bowl of assorted Australian sweets that sits beside him, evidently salvaged from the aftermath of the festivities, and pops a pink gummy dinosaur in his mouth. He chews it slowly.  “I’ve been an arse. Tonight did _not_ play out as planned.”

 

The anger that had been lying dormant inside Harry comes bubbling to the surface as he crouches down to Louis’ level. “What did you _think_ was going to happen?” His upper lip curls and he raises his palms in exasperation. “That you could just get wasted and erase the awkwardness from this afternoon? That after all of the conversations we’ve had and progress we’ve made, I would be happy to just be friends after you rejected me like that? What the _fuck_ is going on between us, Louis? Am I reading the signs wrong? Did I do something to upset you? You _promised_ me that Jerk Louis was gone forever, and yet today he’s back again. This is ridiculous and I’m so done with i--”

 

One of Louis’ hands comes up to mute Harry’s mouth, the other grabbing him and pulling him down onto the floor. “Harry, I know you’re mad. You have every right to be. Just hear me out for a moment.”

 

Harry rolls his eyes in response, but after a short pause he gestures for Louis to go on.

 

Louis releases his hand. “Thank you.” He takes a deep breath and Harry notes with satisfaction that he looks properly nervous. “I know we shouldn’t be having to do this again. This is our third fight in the past week, and I accept full responsibility for them all.”

 

Absentmindedly, Harry rifles through the bowl and finds a sweet shaped like false teeth. His brows knit together as he nibbles on it nervously. _Minty_. Glancing up, he realises Louis is watching him carefully. Harry nods. “Go on.”

 

Louis wrings his hands together. “I freaked out today, and that wasn’t fair. I led you to believe that I was ready for that, and, honestly, it wasn’t until it was happening that I realised I wasn’t. But I could have communicated that more clearly and I’m sorry.” There’s a pause as he nervously chews at a nail, as if deciding where to go next. “Here’s the thing, Harry: I like you. Like, more than a person normally likes another person. You’re probably the best person I’ve ever met. And I honestly can’t believe that you would pick me, of all the people in the world for you to be this good to.”

 

A telltale lump rises in Harry’s throat, and tears prick at the corners of his eyes. Determined to control his emotions until Louis finished whatever it is he wants to say, he takes another deep breath and maintains a neutral face. “Go on,” he mutters croakily.

 

Louis’ eyes widen slightly at the instruction, as though he’s shocked by Harry’s prompt. “Okay, uh, so I guess I’ve been feeling like I can’t let anything happen with you in case I screw it up by not being ready.”

 

Harry opens his mouth to respond, but is hushed once more by Louis. _The nerve of this man_.

 

“Just wait a second. That logic can go to hell. Fuck caution and fuck the stupid rebound, I don’t want to miss the chance to see if there’s something good between us.”

 

Harry studies Louis’ face, confused. “You figured that out this afternoon? And instead of coming to tell me, you decided the best plan of action would be to get drunk?”

 

Louis nods, looking down at the fingernail he’s bitten down to the quick. “Dutch courage,” he murmurs. ‘Dumb, I know.”

 

“Very dumb,” Harry agrees, picking up another sweet. “If anything that made me more pissed off at you. It seemed to me like you didn’t care that you’d just majorly hurt me.”

 

“Harry, in the past ten days I’ve come to care about you more than any individual I’ve met who’s not related to me or named Zayn Javadd Malik. But I’m messed up and stupid and my trademark self-preservation technique is avoidance.” Louis sighs. “I cannot apologise enough. I’m sorry for hurting you and I’m sorry for not treating you the way you deserve to be treated. That ends now. I want to explore this--whatever this thing is with you. I want to hold you and kiss you and spend the rest of our time on this trip taking care of you. If you’ll let me.”

 

Harry is silent, staring off at the dark horizon behind Louis. His mind races, trying to process the magnitude of Louis’ confession. Somehow, it gets stuck on the one tiny section. _He wants to kiss you_.

 

Harry shifts his gaze to meet Louis’ eyes. Before he knows what he’s doing, he feels himself lean forward. He reaches an arm out and slides his hand around the back of Louis’ neck. Harry shifts until he’s sitting up on his knees. Louis mirrors his action, never letting their eyes lose one another.

 

Louis’ long, chestnut fringe hangs limply over his stormy eyes, beckoning for Harry to reach out and gently brush it away. Harry takes it between his fingers, tucking it away to the side and leans in closer still, all the while refusing to blink or look away. When their faces are less than an inch from one another, Harry realises that he’s stopped breathing. He pauses, watching Louis’ irises flit over his face, studying Harry’s forehead, his nose, his lips.

 

 _It’s now or never_.

 

Slowly, gently, Harry closes the last bit of space between them.

 

It’s everything Harry thought it would be and nothing like any kiss he’s shared before. The immediate rush of desire coursing through his veins is intense. Urgent.

 

Louis’ lips are soft and receptive, and taste like sugar. Cautiously, he brings a hand up to cup Harry’s cheek, and his gentle touch sends tingles down Harry’s spine. The kiss breaks off leaving Harry feeling as though he’s suspended in mid-air.  

 

Then Louis brings their mouths together again, and this time Harry presses into the kiss hungrily.

 

Louis brings his other hand up to Harry’s face, thumbs brushing over Harry’s jaw as he kisses him harder. Harry’s heart pounds and he gives in completely. He lets out a tiny moan, urging Louis on with a nip to his upper lip.

 

Louis reciprocates, swiping his tongue quickly over Harry’s bottom lip before sucking it gently.

 

It’s so strange to think this isn’t the first time they’ve done this--there’s nothing familiar in the way Louis feels, touches, tastes. No similarities between the frenzied bathroom encounter and this. Everything about Louis has taken on a rawer, richer form that leaves Harry fearing that his legs will give way beneath him, bringing them crashing to the floor. _On second thought, that might not be so bad_.

 

After what feels like years and still much too soon, Harry pulls away. “Lou?”

 

Louis’ eyelids flutter open. His breaths come in short, sharp intervals. He nods for Harry to go on.

 

“If you mean what you said, then that’s what I want too.”

 

Louis clears his throat quietly. “Harry, I’ve never meant anything more in my life.” He smoothes his hands over Harry’s shoulders, gripping him gently to pull them both down to the deck. Louis presses a kiss to Harry’s jaw, letting his nose drag over Harry’s cheek as he moves to bite his earlobe. “I’m not running away anymore,” he whispers.

       


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Come say hi to me on tumblr: [spandeedie](http://spandeedie.tumblr.com)
> 
> Enjoy!


	13. Thirteen: Feeling Well but Lacking Courage

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> All I can say is, thank goodness for school holidays. The last time I posted was just after the Term 1 school holidays, because I was travelling for the entirety of winter break, and for anyone familiar with Australian school terms, Term 2 and Term 3 are crayyyyyy. So once I got into holidays again this week I was finally in a headspace that allowed me to get creative again. If you're reading this, thanks for sticking with me. I hope you like the chapter and there're not too many inconsistencies. I could barely remember what happened in the last chapter and I find reading my own work excruciating so I was making a lot of guesses! Pull me up on anything you spot :)
> 
> [gettingaphdinlarry](http://gettingaphdinlarry.tumblr.com) amazingly didn't give up on me despite me giving her nothing to beta for MONTHS and then suddenly being like, hey can you read my fic again. She's an angel from above. Thank you. 
> 
> As usual, you can find me on Tumblr if you feel so inclined, but I blog about as often as I post fic these days :( : [Spandeedie](http://spandeedie.tumblr.com)

Louis wakes with the sun, squinting against the blinding glare. He rubs his thumb up and down the soft skin it’s resting on, and the warm body he’s holding in his arms shifts slightly. Tilting his chin down, Louis’ mouth makes contact with the top of Harry’s head, the soft brown hair tickling his lips. He presses a gentle kiss to Harry’s scalp and tightens his grip a little. Not a bad way to wake up, this.

 

Harry stirs, letting out a little groan as he turns in Louis’ arms so they’re lying chest to chest. His chin juts into Louis’ sternum, bleary eyes blinking slowly. Louis studies his face, admiring the light smattering of freckles that adorn the bridge of Harry’s nose and cheeks. He’s utterly adorable, and it’s only his consciousness of morning breath that keeps Louis from leaning forward and kissing him.

 

Harry shuts his eyes, a close-lipped smile breaking across his face. He rests his cheek on Louis’ chest and nuzzles in a little bit. “Like waking up on you.”

 

A shiver of satisfaction runs through Louis’ shoulders. He grins. “Like waking up to you on me.” He closes his eyes again and drifts back to sleep.

 

>>>I|I<<<

 

“Shhh! Make sure you put it on silent or the shutter sound will wake them!”

 

“It’s so cute!”

 

“Larry is real!”

 

“Oi, girls step aside, I’ve got this…”

 

It’s as though Harry feels the water before it reaches him. His eyes fly open and a defensive palm stretches back just as the bucket of freezing sea water hits his skin. His back bears the brunt of the splash, protecting Louis for the most part from its icy temperature. Still, Louis’ firm torso flinches reflexively, pushing Harry off him and onto the deck.

 

Lying on his back on the wooden ground, Harry shields his eyes and glares up at the perpetrator. “You red-headed arse. You’re lucky I believe in love, not war.”

 

Ed cackles as he takes off, empty bucket in hand.

 

“He gets compared to Ron Weasley, but I swear sometimes he’s more Fred or George,” Harry mutters as he clambers up and straddles Louis’ lap. He leans forward and kisses the tip of Louis’ nose lightly. “Morning.”

 

Louis grins. “Good morning.”

 

Harry watches as Louis dislodges the tiny flecks of sleep in the inner corner of his eye and wipes them away. He wrinkles his nose and takes Louis’ wrist in his grip, kissing the back of his hand three times, before ducking in and landing one on Louis’ lips.

 

They both sit for a moment, grinning at each other like idiots until Nick appears, disrupting their moment. Harry scrambles off of Louis’ legs onto the deck.

 

“Alright, lovebirds, it’s time for breakfast. We have to get this snorkel trip underway.” He pauses. “Although I’m not sure I’m hungry anymore.”

 

In a flash, Louis grabs Harry’s discarded towel and twists it into a whip. A sharp _crack_ hits the air as he flings the sharp end at Nick’s quickly retreating calf, narrowly missing.

 

“Yikes, Tommo! Like a mother bear with her cub. You’ve got yourself a keeper, Harry!” Nick sticks out his tongue and runs off.

 

Louis drops the towel and turns back to Harry. A mischievous grin is spread wide across his impish features, making him look like a mythical creature from an Enid Blyton novel. The idea of pop cakes and google buns makes Harry’s stomach rumble, so he stands slowly, stretching out his numb limbs. He wraps his arms around Louis’ neck and leans in for a quick peck on the lips. “Breakfast?”

 

They walk hand in hand along the deck, Louis’ petite fingers cool in Harry’s palm. He holds on tight as they reach the others, still slightly scared that Louis will drop the public show of affection once it actually becomes public.

 

He doesn’t.

 

>>>I|I<<<

 

“Ahh, shit. I forgot to put sunscreen on. You go ahead, I’ll be there in a minute.” Louis drops Harry’s hand and turns back towards his room. After a morning of being intertwined with Harry’s, his fingers feel purposeless. Louis casts a quick glance behind him in time to see Harry awkwardly flip-flopping his way to the edge of the boat, snorkel band clinging tightly to his unruly curls. His heart starts up again in the gentle canter he’s quickly getting used to.

 

He strolls into his bunk and rifles around in his bag for sunscreen. As he squirts the milky formula into the palm of his hand, he hears muffled voices start up in the neighbouring room. Slipping quietly out into the corridor, Louis recognises Jade’s thick Geordie accent speaking quietly to… _Wait a minute...is that Niall?_

 

“I just feel so terrible I wasn’t there to help you. Fight off sharks, and the like.”

 

“Niall, getting pulled out of the ocean in the middle of the night isn’t actually as romantic as you may have convinced yourself. It wasn’t a scene from a Disney film.” Jade pauses. “’Sides, I have a feeling if you’d come in after me, we’d’ve both drowned.”

 

There’s silence. Louis carefully rubs sunscreen into his left arm in gentle, slow circles.

 

“You’re probably right. I was an arse to Harry too.”

 

 _You got that right, mate_. Harry had filled Louis in on their conversation from the night before. Niall’s drunk logic made sense to anyone who’s ever been intent on wooing a love interest, but his attack on Harry was unfair and hurtful.

 

“Well, you’ve got some patching up to do there, yeah. But as far as this goes, you and I are alright,” Jade says reassuringly.

 

“We are?”

 

“Yep.”

 

“That’s a good start. What am I going to say to Haz?”

 

Jade lets out a deep sigh. “Niall, you’ve been friends since you were teeny. Just say ‘I was an arse and I realise that now that I’m sober. I should never have treated you like that. Can you please forgive me?’ He’ll get it.”

 

“You’re probably right.”

 

“I am right. Now, shall we go join the rest of them? I can fake a drowning so you can save me if you like?”

 

Niall lets out a groan. “I’m never going to live this down.”

 

“No, you’re not. But it’s a pretty entertaining story for the grandkids.”

 

Louis hears the bed creak as Jade stands up  and paces toward the door. He ducks quickly back into his room, leaving the door open a crack, just in time for her cabin door to open.

 

“You coming, Niall?”

 

Niall is oddly silent. For a moment. “For the--For the _grandkids?_ ”

 

Jade chuckles and skips away down the corridor. Niall follows a moment later, his jaw still dropped and brows furrowed in disbelief.

 

Louis grins to himself. _Two disastrous love stories back on track in the space of a day_. He can’t wait to fill Harry in on the developments, but vows to wait until Niall has apologised. He’s missed this, having a partner to go to with all the slightly less mundane stories and events from everyday life.

 

It’s all these funny little things--the quickening heartbeat, the urge to share your day with someone else, the desire to walk around with fingers tangled--that had long disappeared from his relationship with Sam by the time it came to its disastrous end. It’s the same things that reassure Louis that no matter how many times his ex texts or calls, he no longer has the need for anything other than closure from the other man.

 

And yet.

 

The little red bubble on his Messages app reads ‘5’. There’s a ‘10’ beside it, hovering over the green Phone square. Louis hates these badges and all they represent. He’s never one to leave a message unread or a missed call ignored, and yet he can’t bring himself to even tap quickly on the right parts of his screen to get the numbers to vanish.

 

At some point, Louis’ going to have to deal with them. Part of him wants to do it with Harry beside him, the reassurance of their new romance guiding him to say and do the right things to bring this old one to a close, once and for all. Begrudgingly, he admits to himself that this is definitely a conversation he needs to have on his own, where he can feel the full effect of the resonating hurt Sam has caused him and say everything that needs to be said without worrying about upsetting Harry.

 

Louis snaps the sunscreen cap closed and chucks the bottle back into his bag. _Best not to continue worrying in the meantime. Even better, just tell Harry about it. He’ll know what to do_. He casts one last glance at the phone lying on his pillow, before turning and walking out, pulling the door firmly shut behind him.

  


>>>I|I<<<

 

Harry is floating on his stomach, marvelling at the hot pink coral and the iridescent scales of the little school of fish passing through. The silence behind the steady sound of his breathing through the snorkel lulls him into a trance. He’s waited his whole life to navigate these waters, and now that he’s here it’s no less incredible than he’d dared imagine.

 

Harry gasps as a humongous fish with fat, blue lips makes its way slowly toward him. Its cheeks are embellished with an intricate, almost tribal pattern in a slightly lighter blue. Two big, black eyes stare Harry down as the creature goes about its business. As it moves into a patch of sunlight, its scales become a medley of fluoro green, yellow and orange. _Breathtaking_.

 

As the fish heads back off into the reef, Harry registers the faint splash of a body hitting the water. He rights himself, pulling his snorkel out of his mouth and his mask onto his forehead as soon as he breaks the surface. “Lou!” he calls when he sees a head emerge from the site of the broken water. “Over here!”

 

Louis swims toward him slowly, gracefully. He’s so natural in the water, whether it’s surfing waves or gliding through the still reef waters. Just another thing for Harry to admire, as if he needs to make the list any longer.

 

“Hey,” Louis says casually as he reaches Harry. He casts a glance around them, then leans in and places a quick kiss on Harry’s mouth. “Mmm, salty.” They’re quiet for a moment, treading water and grinning at each other. “See anything cool?”

 

“Yeah,” Harry replies. “A massive fish with the biggest lips you’ve ever seen in your life.”

 

Louis squints his eyes, jutting his chin out to adopt the demeanour of a scholar. “Ahhh, yes. The elusive Kardashian fish. Stunning species, although not very intelligent.”

 

Harry catches himself off guard with his open-mouthed laugh, and a mouthful of salt water hits the back of his throat.

 

He coughs and splutters while Louis watches, an amused gleam in his eyes. “You okay, love? I’ll try not to be so funny in the future.”

 

Harry hits his palm against the water, sending a splash into Louis’ face. “Argh, my throat. It burns.” He coughs some more. “Ow.”

 

Louis frowns. “Are we going to just tread water all afternoon, then? Personally, I was hoping to see some of the aquatic splendour Australia has to offer, but if you’re going to die from salt inhalation, it can wait.”

 

“I’m good. I’m good now.” Harry pulls his foggy mask off his head and spits in it, swishing the saliva around the clear plastic, before giving it a quick rinse in the ocean. He snaps the mask and snorkel into place, only slightly self-conscious of how ridiculous he must look. Then Louis puts his own mask on, and Harry feels better.

 

They swim slowly around, pointing various fish and coral out to one another. A starfish or two. Some Nemo fish and a Dory. He’s a little disappointed when they return to the boat for lunch without seeing a sea turtle, but Louis reminds him that there’s plenty more snorkelling on their itinerary once they get to Cairns, and he feels happier.

 

>>>I|I<<<

 

Harry and Louis clamber back on board with the others, kicking off flippers and dunking their masks in fresh water. Harry’s stomach is growling by the time they make it to the spread of food on the table, and his skin feels suspiciously tight despite his thorough application of sunscreen before heading out.

 

Louis comes up behind him and puts a hand on either shoulder, giving Harry a little squeeze. “Oooh, you’re hot!”

 

Harry cranes his neck around. “Thank you?”

 

“No, like, your skin. Very warm. And a bit pink. Let’s get some more sunscreen on you please!”

 

Harry turns to face Louis fully. “But I’m _so_ hungry. It can wait five minutes. I just need to scoff a sandwich.”

 

Louis raises an eyebrow and adopts a very authentic matronly tone. “Young man, to your room. Sunscreen. Now.”

 

Begrudgingly, Harry wanders down to his bunk, drying himself off on the way so the sunscreen doesn’t slide right off him. He winces as he rubs the cream in, and has to remind himself that the animosity he feels toward Louis right now is part irritation from sun exposure, and part hanger.

 

He’s prepared to completely forgive and forget the moment he hears a knock on the door and turns to find Louis brandishing the biggest sandwich Harry has ever seen. Piled high with salad, a thick layer of chicken on the foundation. Perfect.

 

“I think I’m in love with you,” Harry jokes, taking the plate gratefully. “Thank you.”

 

Louis leans in to kiss Harry’s forehead. “You’re welcome. Although you’ll forgive me for being a little more restrained with my declarations of love. Only because I’m ninety-nine percent sure you’re only saying that because you’re starving.” He swans past and plonks himself down on Harry’s bed, placing his plate on his lap and taking a huge bite of his own sandwich. “All sunscreened up?”

 

Louis’ question is food-muffled, which should be disgusting but instead elicits in Harry an overwhelming desire to throw both sandwiches to the floor and kiss Louis silly. He refrains. “Didn’t your mother teach you not to eat with your mouth full?”

 

Louis’ eyebrows furrow as a confused look passes over his face. “Isn’t that the only way to eat?”

 

Harry pauses. Replays the last few words in his mind. Realises his mistake. “Oops. I’m an idiot. Talk, I meant talk!”

 

Louis’ eyes are squinty with amusement, a soft chuckle falling from his lips. “I know what you meant, just messing with you. You can stop blushing now.”

 

Harry’s hands fly up to his cheeks, which are very warm and no doubt as pink as the rest of his body. “It’s sunburn!”

 

“Okay, Harry. Eat your sandwich now, love.” Louis grins at him.

 

They eat, watching each other in a comfortable silence. Harry, perched on Niall’s bed opposite his own, admires the way Louis’ nose wiggles with every chewing motion. His hanger is quickly subsiding, and he can appreciate the little things again, although his skin still feels irritatingly warm.

 

Louis finishes his sandwich and places his empty plate on the chest of drawers beside Harry’s bed. He licks one finger and collects the crumbs from the white porcelain, quickly moving his fingertip into his mouth, before pulling it out with a _pop_. “Have you talked to Niall today?”

 

At the sound of his best friend’s name, Harry’s stomach roils. He’d managed to suppress the residual frustration and anger sparked by their confrontation the night before, but it comes bubbling to the surface. He has rarely fought with Niall in their long friendship and the anxiety it causes is altogether unfamiliar.

 

Harry sighs, running a hand through his hair. “No.” He takes a deep breath in, reaching out to place his own empty plate in a neat stack on top of Louis’. “Don’t really know what I’d say just yet.”

 

“That’s fair enough,” Louis begins carefully. “How are you feeling about it?”

 

Harry can see that Louis is broaching the topic with delicate sensitivity, and he feels a swell of appreciation building in his chest. He pauses to consider the question. “Pretty shit, if I’m honest. We don’t fight, Niall and I. This isn’t us, and the strongest part of me is sure he’s being irrational and will get over it, but at the same time to take that perspective is pretty selfish. I know I could be the bigger man and apologise for making him feel like I took his hero role away from him.” He shrugs and adds, “However unknowingly I did it.”

 

Louis hums quietly in response. “It’s tricky, isn’t it.”

 

“Yeah.” Harry looks up from the spot on the floor he’s been focusing on and meets Louis’ sympathetic eyes. “It’ll work itself out, though. Always does.” He forces a small smile on his face and finds it mirrored in Louis’ own consolatory smile.

 

Louis stands and crosses the room to stand in front of Harry. He lightly loops his hands behind Harry’s head, rubbing the back of his neck with gentle presses of his thumbs. “Try not to worry about it, Haz. He’ll come to his senses.”

 

Harry reaches out to wrap his arms around Louis’ waist, pulling him in closer and resting his forehead just above Louis’ hipbone. “Thanks, Lou.” He tilts his head back and looks up into Louis’ eyes. “And thanks for my sandwich.”

 

Louis grins and bends down to kiss Harry gently, his hands running down Harry’s shoulders to hold his arms softly. Without breaking away, Harry shuffles back onto the bed slowly and leans back, coaxing Louis to follow him until Harry is lying on his back, with Louis on top of him propped up on his elbows. They keep kissing, the feeling of Louis’ soft lips on his own dissolving any worries Harry has about Niall. He runs a hand up and down Louis’ chest, using his fingertips to learn the topography of his body. It elicits a small murmur of pleasure, and Harry begins to increase the urgency of their kisses. Behind his closed eyelids, flashes of bright colour reflect the surge of attraction he’s feeling. Harry reaches his free hand around to rest on Louis’ lower back, sliding it slowly down to feel his curves, when Louis’ back pocket begins to vibrate.

 

Louis breaks his lips away from Harry’s. “Shit. Hang on.” He reaches one arm awkwardly around to grab his phone from the pocket, but Harry deftly slides it out himself. As he brings the phone round to give Louis, he sees a name flashing across the screen: ‘Sam’.

 

Harry stiffens, his stomach swooping down to his feet. Louis takes the phone and turns it around to look at the caller ID. Harry watches as his face turns from curious to completely unreadable and cold. Louis clears his throat, but Harry gets in first. “You should answer that.”

 

Louis looks at him, his eyes betraying his inner conflict. “No. It’s fine. I’ve ignored his calls up until now. What’s one more?”

 

Harry reaches up and places one hand on either of Louis’ cheeks. “Lou, he’s only going to keep calling until you’ve spoken. Rip the band-aid off.” He places a quick kiss on Louis’ slightly parted mouth and rolls Louis off of him. He stands, picking up the plates and crossing to the door. “I’ll go talk to Niall. You talk to Sam. We’ll reconvene.”

 

Louis nods silently, his nervous face the last thing Harry sees as he turns to go.

 

>>>I|I<<<

 

Louis’ screen is still lit up, the gentle vibrations pulsing into his clammy palm. _Rip the band-aid off_. He swipes his finger across the screen to accept the call. “Sam.”

 

“Louis?” The voice on the other end is confused, disbelieving. “You answered.”

 

“Yeah.” Louis sucks in a deep breath. “What do you want?”

 

“You haven’t replied to my texts.”

 

“Haven’t I? Gracious. How rude of me to not reply to texts from the guy who cheated on me and left me for someone else after I committed four years of my life to him.”

 

“Lou, don’t.”

 

Louis feels rage bubble in his chest. “Don’t what? Don’t remind you of what you did? Don’t bring attention to the fact that you blindsided me and left? Don’t point out how much of a useless prick you’ve been?”

 

There’s silence on the other end.

 

“Why are you calling, Sam?” Louis demands. He hears his ex take a shuddering breath.

 

“I miss you, Louis. I miss us. I just can’t leave things with you like this. You were everything to me and--”

 

“--and then I wasn’t. And then Aiden became everything. And I realised how unhappy I’d been after all and moved right along. Don’t feel sorry for me, Sam. You did me a favour. If anything I should be sending you a floral arrangement to show my gratitude.”

 

Sam sighs. “Don’t be like that. We were so good together, Lou. I think of how we were in the early days and the nostalgia kills me. Like, if we could just try again, to get some of that feeling back, I’d hold onto it. Not let it dissipate again.”

 

Louis narrows his eyes, wincing, even though Sam can’t witness his display of disgust. “We weren’t even that good, Sam. We were together because it was convenient and we got along, but whatever spark or chemistry we might have imagined in the beginning ran its course long ago. And it’s taken me a little while to realise that, but now that I do, it seems ridiculous how oblivious we were to how unhappy we had become.” He pauses. “It drove you into the arms of another man. A strong relationship doesn’t do that.”

 

“I feel awful that you booked the trip for us and I ruined it.”

 

“Yeah, well. Not a lot you can do about that now, is there?” Louis rubs his hand down over his face. “No, you know what. Don’t feel awful. This trip is the best thing to happen to me. It hasn’t been without its harder moments, but I’m feeling better now than I have in years. Maybe I’ll send a second bouquet. Thank you, really.”

 

Sam clears his throat. “I’m glad to hear that Lou,” he says sadly. “If there’s any way I can make it up to you…”

 

“Is that what these calls are really about? Atonement? You feeling less guilty about cheating? I should have known--”

 

“Louis, stop. Don’t be awful. Just because I screwed up doesn’t mean I don’t still care about you and want to make sure you’re doing okay.”

 

“Yep, well, here I am saying I’m fine. Great. Outstanding, even. I am doing fantastic. So don’t worry about me, and don’t feel you need to call again to ascertain how I’m feeling about the whole thing because I can assure you it’ll only be variations on joy and complete relief from now on.” Louis knows he’s being harsh but doesn’t care. The rage that peeked out from its hiding place at the beginning of their conversation has been quickly being replaced with a confident apathy. “Thank you for your call, but there won’t be any need for further correspondence between the two of us.” He realises that he’s sounding like his mother trying to politely turn down a telemarketer, but in a way it’s fitting. Sam is trying to sell an apology seeking forgiveness as payment, but Louis isn’t sure he’s ready to make that particular transaction.

 

There’s a defeated sigh on the other end of the line. “Okay. Sure. I’m sorry if I overstepped the mark. I’m glad you’re doing well now, and I hope one day you’ll forgive me for what I did.” _An equally stiff and formal response. Playing this one out like gentlemen. Or exes who probably should never have been together_.

 

Louis squeezes the pressure point at the back of his neck. “One day, I probably will. Maybe I’ll even shoot you a text to let you know. But until that day comes, I’d prefer it if you didn’t contact me again, Sam.”

 

“Enjoy the rest of your trip, Lou.”

 

“I will. Take care.” Louis hears Sam repeat his farewell as he brings the phone away from his ear to terminate the call. He feels relieved. Liberated. Lighter.  

 

He pauses. All that anger he’d released at the start of the call now seemed so foreign, unnecessary. _The Sam days are over. You’re free._ Triumphantly, Louis gets off the bed, tucking his phone back into his pocket and leaving the same way Harry did just ten minutes before.

  


>>>I|I<<<

 

Harry cannot for the life of him find Niall. He’s been wandering around the deck for the past ten minutes with no sign of him, which is ridiculous considering the modest size of the yacht. Sighing, he takes out his phone and shoots a quick message to his friend. “Hey, trying to find you but you seem to have disappeared???”

 

He sees the ellipsis bubble pop up a few seconds later, then disappear. Then pop up again. Then disappear. _Oh, come on, Niall. Out with it_. The reply finally appears: “Sorry, been napping in our room. Just woke up. Will come up now.”

 

 _Interesting_. Harry, of course, knows full well that Niall certainly has not been napping in their room, although he decides not to reveal this knowledge in case it somehow postpones their reconciliation.

 

A few minutes later, the shock of blonde hair appears from below deck, and Niall’s blue eyes search him out.

 

Harry wanders over to meet him just as Louis emerges behind Niall. They catch each other’s eyes momentarily, Louis’ silently asking. Harry gives a slight shake of his head. _No, not yet_. Clearly understanding, Louis squeezes past them and busies himself by helping Nick pack up the lunch spread.

 

“Hey,” he says to Niall. “Good nap?”

 

Niall’s cheeks turn a bright pink, but he plays it cool. The right side of his mouth curves causing an unintended wink. “Yeah, all that snorkelling, you know.”

 

Harry nods. A momentary silence that lies between them. “Listen, I--”

 

“Nah, Haz. I need to apologise. We both know that.” Niall shuffles from foot to foot and tilts his head. “I was drunk, and being an arse. That’s all there was to it, and I’m really sorry, mate.”

 

Harry chews his bottom lip, relieved that his friend was so forthcoming with an apology but unsure how to proceed. He chooses his words carefully, “Thanks, Nialler. I’d never want you to feel as though I was getting between you and someone you want to be with.” He pauses. “Let alone someone you want so badly you’d jump into the ocean drunk to save them.”

 

They chuckle nervously before Niall stretches out an arm and pulls Harry in for a hug. His face squished into the side of Harry’s neck, Harry feels Niall murmur “Love you, man.”

 

Releasing himself from the embrace, Harry takes Niall’s cheeks in his hands. “Niall?”

 

“Yeah?”

 

“You weren’t napping in our room.” Harry grins, kisses his reddening friend lightly on the nose and walks off.

 

>>>I|I<<<

 

Harry ends the day the same way he started it, curled into Louis’ chest on one of the boat’s lounges. Their fingers are laced together, and Harry can feel the steady rhythm of Louis’ heartbeat against his back. Niall is across the way chatting animatedly with Jade, Ed sitting on their left strumming guitar quietly while Taylor hums along. Everyone seems to be in good spirits, despite the fact that their time on the yacht will come to a close with tomorrow’s departure for Cairns.

 

Leigh-Anne, Jesy and Zayn whisper conspiratorially over their game of cards, casting furtive glances at Niall and Jade, and Harry and Louis in turn. A swell of pride rises in Harry’s chest. Louis is finally his, in that Harry can cuddle and kiss and hold hands with him freely, and the complete departure of the angst and anxiety that had been plaguing him for the first half of the trip leaves him feeling beyond relief.

 

He feels Louis’ lips find his earlobe, tugging gently in a small bite. “Can we go out onto the deck for a bit?”

 

Harry brings his chin to his shoulder, meeting Louis’ eyes to try and diagnose his state of mind. His gaze is serious rather than suggestive. _The phone call_. Without responding, Harry unwinds himself from his position and stands up, taking Louis’ hand and lightly leading him back out onto the deck.

 

Outside, it’s humid. The night air thick and unmoving, covering them like a blanket as they emerge. They wander back to the same spot they had slept the night before, sliding their backs down the bridge to sit on the deck. This time, though, Louis shuffles around to sit cross-legged, perpendicular to Harry, who sits with his legs outstretched leaning on the wall.

 

“So, I spoke to Sam,” Louis begins slowly, picking up Harry’s hand.

 

Harry feels a tiny spark of nerves begin to build but remains determinedly light-hearted in tone. “Yep. How did it go?”

 

Louis is quiet for a moment, before looking up from where he’s been playing absentmindedly with Harry’s fingers. “It was good. Closure. Short, but effective. I think…” he trails off, frowning. “I think I’m still just a little bit worried about the whole rebound thing. Like, every man and his dog would point to this as a rebound hookup. I hate that word, rebound.”

 

Harry’s brows knit together. _Don’t jump in. Let him talk this one out._ He gives a gentle murmur of understanding, encouraging Louis to go on.

 

“But if it’s okay with you, I think I want to keep doing whatever this is. The hand holding, the kissing. The company. Let’s just, let’s leave the past in the past for now and have fun together while we’re here.” Louis’ face is earnest, seemingly satisfied with the conclusion he’s reached.

 

Harry’s heart breaks a little. _Okay, so that’s not exactly the declaration of love you wanted._ He banishes the thought. _Let’s focus on your own faults for a second, Mr. Jump Into Every Relationship Heart-first._ This will be good for him, he decides. _Play this one out as casual, don’t get too attached, see how it goes_. Reminding himself that Louis isn’t actually privy to the innermost workings of his mind, Harry nods. “Yep. Let’s have fun. No need to make this a serious life choice.” His heart aches a little as the words come out, but if past experience is anything to go by, Harry must learn to practice love in moderation. _Dole a little bit out at a time. Keep your eyes open for signs that it’s not right._

 

Still, there’s a niggling feeling deep down. He’s willing to bet that this time, jumping in headfirst might actually turn out alright.


End file.
